Hunter's Mystique
by Megget18
Summary: When the Winchester brothers accidentally allow Lucifer to rise they don't know what to do. Searching for answers, they come across a mysterious hunter. Will this hunter help them save the world or will Lucifer destroy the human race?
1. Lucifer's Arrival

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey guys, so I've been thinking about writing this story since the middle of Season Four and I wanted to get the first chapter out there before the Season Five Premiere. I didn't get as much written as I had wanted to by this time and I am in school so I might not update as regularly as I should, but I'll try my best. I really hope you like it!

Chapter One

Lucifer's Arrival

The searing white light was expanding from the altar, quickly enveloping the entire room. The crosses that were emerged in shadows just seconds before were suddenly illuminated and then engulfed by the ironically pure white light emanating from the center of the church. Clutching to one another, the estranged brothers instinctively back down the long aisle of the church as the horrifying reality of their situation fully sank in: Lucifer was coming.

The floor was rumbling, rocking the once stable foundation of the building. A piercing cry rang out, bouncing off the walls and then transforming into a loud, guttural roar. The cringe-worthy sound seemed to snap Dean out of his initial shock. He quickly turned away from the growing light, grabbed his younger brother Sam by the arm and started dragging him towards the large, wooden double doors.

"Wh-what are you doing? Dean, we need to stay. We've got to fight…to stop him!" Sam shouted, struggling to rip his arm from his brother's vice-like grip.

Dean pushed through the heavy doors in silence, sprinting outside, through the darkness of the night to his gleaming, '67 Chevy Impala. He forced Sam into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut, rushed to the driver's side, and quickly peeled out of the parking lot.

"Dean, stop! We gotta go back!" Sam protested, turning on his brother.

"Yeah, Sammy, you know what? That is a great idea! Let's go fight the all-powerful angel bent on the destruction of the human race." He paused a moment to let that idea sink into Sam's mind and then continued. "You're right. I think that you, who's drained from killing Lilith with the abnormal powers you got from your addiction to sucking demon blood, and I, who has neither a weapon to fight Lucifer with or any idea how to kill him, could absolutely defeat the world's original evil badass in an epic showdown right now."

Sam was silent for a moment as Dean waited for his response. Sam finally heaved a heavy sigh and sunk back into the worn, leather seat.

"Okay. I get it. I could do without the sarcasm." He finally replied.

"Too bad. You deserve it." Dean said, tightening his grip so that his knuckles started turning white.

"Dean, I'm so sorry."

"You should be Sam! If you had just listened to me for once, none of this would have happened."

"You know what? Can we not talk about this right now? I think there are a few more pressing issues we should deal with at the moment. Like maybe…how are we gonna save the world?" Sam said.

"I don't know." Dean mumbled, "We need to get away and figure out some sort of plan."

"Like?"

"Like I don't know! We need to talk to Cas. He may know how I'm 'destined' to stop Lucifer." Dean said.

"Castiel? I thought he made it clear that he wasn't going to help." Sam stated, genuinely confused.

"Well, he changed his mind. He was the one who helped me get to you." Dean said.

"I didn't do it for you." The sudden and unexpected voice from the backseat responded to Dean's statement, surprising him so much that he swerved the car dangerously across both lanes.

"Jesus Cas, not the best time to pop in. We're kind of on high alert here. If you haven't noticed, the _literal_ devil is back above ground." Dean cursed at the rogue angel.

"I noticed." Castiel's deep, raspy voice responded, in it's usual, humorless tone.

"I'm pretty sure that was rhetorical." Sam said, piping into the conversation. Castiel said nothing in response, merely staring at Sam in annoyance.

Dean noticed the sudden tension in the air and decided to break the uncomfortable silence.

"So Cas, how do we kill Lucifer?" Dean asked the obvious question, in a lighthearted tone that didn't match the seriousness of the situation.

Castiel refused to answer at first. He shifted his focus from Sam to stare at the back of Dean's head as he drove. And with each second of silence that passed, the pit in Dean's stomach grew tenfold.

"Cas?" Dean prodded.

"I am honestly not sure."

"Excuse me?" Sam asked, turning in his seat to face the angel directly. "You're not sure? What do you mean by that?"

Castiel turned his steely gaze back to the younger Winchester.

"I don't need to hear any skepticism from you Sam. I'm not the one who broke the final seal." Castiel snapped.

The car grew silent again as a new wave of guilt crashed over Sam.

"You're telling us you have no ideas on how to stop him?" Dean asked after a minute.

"That's not what I said. I have _ideas_, but none that are sure to work." Castiel said monotonously.

"Care to share?" Sam inquired.

"I have the blade Uriel used to slaughter my fallen brethren a few months ago. As you know, Lucifer is an angel so there is a possibility that the blade could be used to defeat him."

"Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?" Dean asked.

"Because there is a chance this weapon could be useless against him and we didn't want rely on it. He is an ancient source of evil who has only grown more powerful with time. There are rituals and latin incantations to help ensure your success with the blade, but the biggest plan I have for the two of you is to do research. A lot of it." Castiel said.

"Really? That's your sage advice? Your sacred wisdom? Do research." Dean said, his irritation rising.

"Yes." Castiel answered simply.

"I think we could have figured that out on our own. Thanks." Sam muttered. "Unless there's an _Idiot's Guide to Killing Lucifer_ that you want to point us to."

"You'll need to expand your research beyond just Lucifer. He's the newest leader of all demons. If you think Lilith was hard to get to you don't want to imagine the protection that will be surrounding Lucifer: The strongest, highest levels of demons. And they won't succumb to a smoke sucking Sam or a gun-wielding Dean. You're going to require more. Some assistance." Castiel elaborated.

"Yeah, we got Bobby." Dean pointed out.

"Not enough." Castiel replied immediately, as if knowing what Dean would say. "You'll need more help than what Bobby alone can provide." He explained.

"Then who else? Other hunters?"

"One in particular: A retired hunter who runs an auto shop out of Worcester, Massachusetts. It's called C.J.'s."

"What's so special about this guy?" Sam asked, skeptically.

Castiel snapped his head toward Sam, looking him square in the eye and said ominously. "Just find Charlie Warren." And he disappeared before the name was completely logged into either boy's memory.

After taking a moment to register the conversation, Dean made a sudden turn off the highway, up onto an exit ramp and eventually into a gas station.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Filling her up and buying a map to Boston." Dean answered truthfully.

"You're actually listening to him?"

"Yes, I mean I know his reasons are cryptic, but I also know he has them. He wouldn't send us there otherwise. So I say we check it out." Dean explained his reasoning.

"I guess we could use the reinforcements." Sam said.

"Absolutely." Dean agreed, getting out of the car and approaching the pump. "This Charlie dude just better not be another long-lost sibling. If we have to deal with another Adam situation, I swear I will kick dad's ass the next time I'm in Hell." Dean joked, with an edge of seriousness in his tone.

"Next time?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "I'm assuming." He said with a smile before going into the convenience store attached to the gas station and loading up on his favorite snacks in anticipation for the long road trip ahead.

Sam slumped farther down in his seat, relishing the few moments he had to himself. His entire body felt heavy and it was a relief for him to finally rest. Any remnants of pure adrenaline that he had been running on since killing Lilith were quickly dripping out of his system. He slowly closed his eyes, letting exhaustion overcome him, but promising himself not to fall asleep.

Dean came back to the car, arms full of various, unhealthy snack foods, and threw them through one of the back windows. He unfolded his newly coveted map and began figuring out the fastest route to Massachusetts. "So, Sam, what do you think? Do you want to take the first leg or-." Dean trailed off after sweeping his eyes from the map to Sam's sleeping form.

Dean smiled at his brother, as he curled up against the side of the Impala. He looked so innocent, so harmless that Dean could hardly believe the person that Sam had become.

"Stop staring at me. It's creepy!" Sam murmured loud enough for Dean to hear, his eyes still sealed shut.

"What? No. I…no!" Dean protested.

"I can feel you watching me." Sam sighed.

"Whatever. Go back to sleep." Dean demanded, embarrassed by his moment of brotherly nostalgia.

"Not sleeping. I'm just resting my eyes." Sam muttered and let out a long yawn.

"Sure." Dean responded sarcastically. He refolded the map and crawled back into his car. He threw it in gear and sped out of the gas station, the tires squealing as they spun out, hoping to leave Lucifer far behind in their dust. At least for now.


	2. Vintage Goods

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey guys, here's chapter two. It took me a little longer than I thought to get this one out, but I'm already more than half way through writing the next chapter so it should be updated faster if my exam schedules don't get to crazy. I really hope you're enjoying this. Please read and review if you got any comments you want to share with me!

Chapter Two

Vintage Goods

The brother's climbed back into the car after a full day and a half of driving, followed by another day of rest and recovery in a motel room near Boston. After almost three days together, Sam had expected that he and Dean would have discussed their issues and prior fights by now, but instead they opted to ignore the tension.

Sam pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket as Dean eased the car out onto the open road. He handed the piece of paper to Dean who read the scribbled address one more time to ingrain it into his mind.

"You sure this is the right place?" Dean asked.

"It's the only C.J.'s Auto Shop in Worcester, so I'm pretty sure it's right." Sam responded annoyed by the small amount of confidence his older brother had in him.

They road in silence the rest of the way and after a wrong turn or two they pulled into the parking lot of an old fashioned garage. There was a nice sign above the door that read C.J.'S in large letters.

Dean cut the engine and got out of the car. Sam followed his lead. Dean couldn't help but smile as he took in his surroundings. It was a big place. The outside parking lot was full of cars to be fixed or picked up. Inside the garage itself there was a range of various tools lining all four walls. There were four beautiful vintage, muscle cars taking up most of the space in the main room: a black 1955 Chevy Bel Air, a cherry red 1959 Cadillac, a red and white 1955 Buick Special Riviera, and a deep blue 1969 Chevy Camaro SS. All four were gleaming with a fresh coat of paint. This was his heaven.

Each car had its own section in the garage, occupying the four corners, leaving a relatively open circle of space in the middle. There was low music pumping out of a boom box sitting on the stool that was next to the Camaro. Dean smiled as he recognized the beginning beat of AC/DC's rock anthem "Back in Black." He turned his grin to Sam.

"This place is awesome!" He exclaimed.

"It's a garage." Sam observed blandly.

"I know!" Dean replied excitedly.

As the boys walked closer towards the radio, Sam noticed a pair of feet sticking out from under the car. The person was wearing black high socks and a pair of scuffed-up work boots. Sam pointed out the legs to Dean and approached cautiously, very aware that the feet had not moved once since Sam had seen them. Dean eyed his brother warily, with a sinking feeling in his gut that something was wrong.

The boys came to a stop right above the feet. They glanced at each other, silently preparing to bend down and inspect the ever-still body. Suddenly, the boys saw movement under the car and sprang away as the feet rolled towards them.

"Shit!" Dean said, rubbing his hand across his forehead and breathing deeply.

"Well hello to you too…" Said the girl who was now sprawled out at their feet. She had been lying on a mechanic's dolly fixing the car when they had approached.

"Sorry. You weren't moving. We thought you were unconscious or something." Sam explained as his heartbeat slowed back down to its usual pace.

"You thought wrong." She replied easily, hoisting herself up from the dolly. "I'm perfectly conscious." She explained further, demonstrating this by intentionally pinching her arm in front of the boys' faces. "Thanks for the concern though." She added, striding past the boys towards a large sink at the back of the room.

Dean watched her closely as she turned on the sink and slowly washed oil off her hands and arms. She towered above the sink at a languid five foot ten. Baggy cargo pants adorned what seemed to be a pair of long, tan legs, revealed by the strategic bunching up of her left pant leg. She wore a well fitted, army green, ribbed tank top that clung well to her curves, a sweat stain curling down her spine. Grease smears dotted up her slender neck to the long mess of chestnut brown hair that was spilling out of a loose bun. The sun streaming in from the open garage door reflected off the streaks of natural blonde and red highlights running across her hair. Glancing at his brother, Dean noticed Sam also checking out the exotic, brunette beauty. His eyes skimming across her toned arms to her flat stomach and finally landing on her butt. The boys continued to stare at her as she shut off the running water and grabbed a towel.

"So are you going to continue to stare at my ass or are you gonna fill me in on what you want?" She asked as she turned towards them with a smirk on her face. Her bright, blue eyes danced with amusement at their gawking. The dust of freckles across the brim of her nose scrunched up as she flashed her white teeth in a bright smile. She had a thin face and a slightly crooked nose, as if it had been broken on at least one occasion. This flaw gave her character; adding to rather than detracting from her beautiful face. Sam and Dean were impressed by how attractive she was in her current, dirty, sweat glistening state.

Dean cleared his throat. "Don't flatter yourself." He replied, trying to cover up his embarrassment, but she didn't seem fazed. Sam elbowed him sharply in the stomach for his rudeness.

"We're uh…I…sorry." Sam apologized sheepishly before getting to the point of their visit. "We are looking for Charlie Warren. Is he around by any chance?" Sam asked politely.

She cocked her head to the side in an obvious display of curiosity. "Oh yeah? What exactly do you want with Charlie?" She questioned with a grin,

"It's kind of personal. He's an old friend of ours." Dean explained.

She narrowed her eyes at them. "Is that right?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows at her reaction as she thought over their explanation. "I'll go get him for you." She decided, suddenly making a graceful turn on her heel and gliding into what Sam assumed was the back offices.

"Interesting girl." Sam noted with a smile.

"Smoking girl! Bad attitude though." Dean commented.

"This coming from you?" Sam scoffed. Dean nodded before Sam's comment sank in and he turned to his brother, offended.

Before any words could escape Dean's lips, the girl returned to the room with an older man in tow. The man was tall even though he seemed to slouch. Wrinkles lined his forehead until they reached the beginning of his salt and pepper hair, the rest of which was covered by a baseball hat with the garage's insignia. He had scruff on his face, signaling that he hadn't shaved in a while. He had dark brown eyes separated by a wide brimmed nose. He was fit for his age with strong arm and legs, except for the start of a beer gut underneath his plaid shirt. He gave the boys a big grin as he approached.

"Uh…_Jade_ here," he nodded to the girl, " tells me you boys have something to discuss with me." Sam nodded as Dean gave Jade a pointed look, making it clear that the conversation was private. Jade gave him a challenging smirk before subtly slipping away to a nearby car.

The older man noticed Dean staring at her warily, worried that she was still in hearing distance. "Don't worry about her. Tell me what you want." He said seriously. Sam nodded.

"My name is Sam and this is my brother Dean…We're John Winchester's boys." If the man knew the name there was no evidence of recognition on his face. He merely nodded.

"We need your help." Dean blurted out, annoyed with Sam's indirect methods.

"With what?" The man asked. The boys just looked at each other. "Well, spit it out!" He urged.

"With a hunt." Dean stated simply still aware of Jade's relatively close presence. Sam and Dean scrutinized the man's face as he mulled over their words.

"You want me to go hunting with you?" He reiterated slowly and the boys noticed his eyes moving to glance discretely at Jade.

"Yes." Sam's reply jolted the man's gaze back to them and he began to shake his head vigorously.

"I'm sorry, boys. I can't help you. I've uh…I've given up the hunt. Retired. You're on your own." He started to back away, heading in Jade's direction when Dean latched onto his arm.

"This is extremely important. Maybe we can step into your office, somewhere more private, to discuss some crucial details." Dean gazed at him, begging to be heard. They stared at each other for a moment before a noise from outside the garage caught the attention of the four inside.

"Yo C.J. where you at?" Yelled a kid as he walked into the shop. "My transmission is jammed again and I need you to do that little trick to fix it for now." The kid was tall, well built with jet-black hair. He was sporting a letterman jacket and a pair of gray sweats. He stopped yelling when his eyes caught the group at the center of the room, Jade joining the boys at the sound of the teen's voice. "C.J. please…"

Jade glanced at her boss, realizing his lack of movement at the young man's plea. "I'll take care of this for you while you have company _C.J._, but you might want to wrap this up. We have a lot of work to catch up on." Her gaze lingered before she abruptly turned and jogged to the customer.

Dean reluctantly tore his eyes away from her retreating form to focus on the older man in front of him. "As I was saying, can we go somewhere and talk? In private." He implored.

"I'm sorry fellas. A change of location won't do anything to change my mind." He responded sternly, reaffirmed by Jade's insistence to get back to work. Any possibility that he would help them had officially flown out the window.

"Please, we need your help. We were told to find you." Sam pleaded.

"Told to find me? By who?"

"It's a long story that you might not completely believe." Sam said slowly.

"You know what? It doesn't matter either way. I can't help you. You're going to have to find someone else because I'm not the person you need." He said, walking away.

"You don't even know what we're hunting!" Dean yelled, as a last ditch effort to capture his interest.

"And it doesn't matter. Boys, I can't. Okay? But how about I make it up to you a bit. There's a great pub down the road- about two blocks. I'll be there all night. If you stick around tonight you should swing by. Drinks are on me." He offered with a genuine grin as Jade wandered back into the garage.

"Wow, you two are still here. This must be a real interesting conversation." She remarked snidely. The boys turned to her as she approached, Sam slumping in defeat and Dean glaring at her in annoyance.

"Why do you care? It doesn't involve you." He growled.

"Really?" She replied coolly. Sam noticed her twitch of a smirk, mocking Dean as if saying she knew more than they thought. Both boys were more than surprised that Dean didn't intimidate her in the least.

Sam squeezed his brother's arm and started pulling him out of the garage before a full on battle of wits started between the two. "Don't forget about the pub- it's called McGuinty's. Stop by if you can." The older man reminded them as they retreated through the garage doors.

"Excuse me?" Jade turned on the man once the boys were out of earshot. "You invited them to the bar?" She asked, completely bewildered.

The older man clamped his mouth shut in what would have been a comical way if she hadn't been so pissed. Waiting a moment for a response that never came, she stocked off to her office in anger, slamming the door shut with a resounding bang.


	3. Shot To Hell

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

Chapter Three

Shot To Hell

When the boys got back to the Motel 6 (really the MO EL 6 according to the large neon sign with the T burnt out), Dean collapsed onto his bed with an exhausted sigh as Sam immediately started gathering his stuff together. Dean's eyes fluttered close as he listened to Sam scramble around the room. "Sammy, what are you doing?" Dean asked after a moment, keeping his eyes shut tight.

"Packing. We failed Castiel's mission. I'm done. It's time to leave and find some way to fight Lucifer."

"Wow, really? Y'know I've never known you to give up so easily. It's sad." Dean remarked.

"I'm not giving up! I'm facing facts. We lost. Charlie's out." Sam explained his chaotic behavior.

"What about the pub? Mc-McGuinty's or whatever." Dean prompted, reluctantly opening his eyes and sitting up on the bed.

"What about it?" Sam hissed, turning from his activity to lash out at Dean.

Dean paused before answering, outwardly inappreciative of Sam's behavior. "First off, drop the tone. It's unnecessary." He said in distinctive, older brother fashion. "Second, stop fidgeting with your shit and sit your ass down." Sam calmly complied with Dean's demand. "Now to answer your question: I think we should go to the bar tonight." Dean finished matter of factly, moving to prop himself against the headboard of his bed.

Sam waited for his brother to continue, but when that didn't happen he encouraged Dean with an irritated, "Why?"

"Because Charlie will be there, meaning we have another shot at convincing him to help us out. I mean he might at least be willing to hear us out completely when he's not in his working environment. What do we have to lose?" Sam gave Dean a pointed look at his rhetorical question and Dean raised his hands in defense. "Okay stupid question. I'm not usually the logical one who has to make the convincing speeches. My bad. But at the very least Charlie may loosen up with a few drinks in him-he'll be more inclined to come with us."

Sam thought over Dean's proposal, looking for any major flaws in his plan. "And what if the answer is still no?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean looked up into his brother's eyes for the first time in days. "Then we have one, last night of fun and free drinking before starting our kamikaze mission to prevent Hell on Earth. What do you say?"

"Fine." Sam sighed.

"I would have liked a little more enthusiasm, but I'll take it." Dean answered.

Sam leaned back on his chair, his naturally long limbs curling around the backrest. "What do we do until then?" He asked, deeming Dean the man with the plan.

Dean glanced around the motel room, eyes skimming over the piles of dirty clothes, the sticky floor, the cluttered desk and table tops, and the lopsided TV stand, to land on the bedside table to his left. He leaned across the bed, wishing once more that he too had been endowed with his brother's length, as he stretched to grab the book sitting on the table. "Research." He said, pointedly opening the book and beginning to read.

Sam stared at her brother in awe. "I never thought I'd see the day you suggest and then willingly do research." Sam commented. He turned away to flip open his lap top, missing Dean's twitch of a smile at hearing Sam joke around again.

* * *

Jade could see her co-worker hesitating outside the door of her office so she ushered him in with a sigh. He walked in sheepishly and sat in the free chair on the other side of her desk. She looked up at the older man and her resolve softened slightly from the look on his face.

"You shouldn't be mad at me." He stated simply, breaking the silence.

"Shouldn't I?" She retorted, putting down her pen and shoving her paperwork away.

"No! I was doing you a favor- one that I don't understand and am still confused about. But I haven't questioned your reasons or doubted you for a minute. You can't get mad at me for being polite to those boys. They seemed stressed and a drink at the pub can go a long way." He explained.

"You did me a favor?" She asked sarcastically, her voice reaching just below the level of yelling. "You did the exact opposite of what I asked!"

The man stood from his seat, face stern. "Charlie Jade Warren don't you dare take that tone with me! I do _not_ care if you are my boss, I am still your elder and I will not tolerate unnecessary shouting."

She shut her mouth, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "I'm sorry, Mac." She apologized to the man, politely gesturing for him to take his seat once more. "It's just…I asked you to pretend you were me so they wouldn't realize that I was the Charlie that they were looking for and that I am not, in fact, a dude like they assumed. If they go to the bar tonight there's a bigger chance they'll figure out who I actually am."

Mac listened intently to the reason for her crazy request that morning. "I still don't understand why you didn't want them to know who you were." He stated.

"Remember that long, complicated past I said that I couldn't tell you about when I first opened this place?" She asked prompting him to flash to the day he walked into C.J.'s only to find the owner was a twenty-something woman. He nodded. "It has everything to do with that crazy past." She said and he knew she wouldn't mention another word about it.

"I'm sorry if I ruined your plans. It wasn't my intention. We can avoid McGuinty's tonight if you think that will help." He offered.

She smiled, but shook her head. "No, that would probably be worse. I know their type. If you're not there they'll ask around and someone is bound to correct their 'small' error. They're less likely to figure it out if we go and play it up the same way we did earlier. They are bound to ask for help again, but no matter what they say, just keep refusing. And refer to me as Jade tonight." She said, cringing at the sound of her middle name. She liked being called by her given name, Charlie or even C.J. - the nickname that had followed her since before she could crawl- but she had always hated the girly moniker Jade, given to her by her mother.

Mac nodded, ready to get the night ahead of him- as "Charlie"- over with. The real Charlie flashed him a grateful smile and then shooed him away with a flick of her wrist. "Back to work. I wasn't bullshitting earlier when I said we're backed up." Mac got up from his seat and headed for the door.

Before twisting the knob, he turned to look back at his boss. "By the way, since when do you hunt? I thought you were an animal lover." He asked, as an afterthought.

All Charlie could do was grin as she looked up at the utter confusion on his face. She shook her head and returned her focus to the papers in front of her.

"I'll see you at McGuinty's Mac." She replied, refusing to answer his question.

* * *

When the boys walked into McGuinty's later that night, the bar was already in full swing. The pub had a feel-good atmosphere. There was enough of a crowd for it to feel welcoming, adding a din of chatter to the air, without being claustrophobic. The walls were covered with Irish paraphernalia (it's a Boston pub guys!) including shamrocks, flags, Celtic symbols, and lots of pictures. The bar was at the center of the room, breaking it up into two sides. To the right there was a seating area with booths against the walls and tables filling the open space. To the left there was a game room with three pool tables, a foosball table, and a dartboard. It was the kind of place both brothers could imagine themselves facilitating in often.

Sam and Dean moved to the bar, taking two empty seats and ordering a round of beer. They scanned the entire room until they found the reason they came to the pub, partaking in a game of pool. 'Charlie' and Jade were playing against each other, laughing as Jade lined up and sunk a perfect shot.

Once the bartender brought them their beers they made their way over to the pool table. 'Charlie' looked up as they approached and gave them a big grin. Jade noticed the boys as well. She gritted her teeth, focusing on sinking the eight ball, instead of greeting the visitors. With a quick jerk of her stick, she sent the cue ball rocketing at its intended target, making the eight ball bounce off one of the walls and fly into the side pocket with a thud. She grinned.

"And my streak continues." She announced her victory. 'Charlie' turned back to the game, surprised by his sudden loss. "Sorry man. Maybe next time." She said, clapping him on the back.

She ignored the brothers, who were now standing in very close proximity to her and went to collect her monetary winnings from the outcome of the game. 'Charlie' welcomed Sam and Dean whole-heartedly.

"I glad you boys decided to stop by. It's always nice to have new faces around here." He noticed that both boys were gripping a beer bottle and turned his attention to the bartender. "Ricky, put these two boys on my tab, will ya?" He shouted, and Ricky nodded in acknowledgement of the request. He turned back to the brothers. "Now that that's covered, enjoy yourselves." He said, raising his beer to them. "Now, please excuse me a minute." 'Charlie' said, turning his back on them to talk to Jade who was happily counting her money.

"What? You want another ass-whupping?" She taunted, grinning. She took a swig of her beer and started racking the balls.

"I think I've taken enough of a beating tonight actually." He said, leaning against the wall.

"You sure?" She urged, but he nodded and struck up a conversation with a buddy standing next to him. She shrugged. "Who wants to play?" She hollered in a singsong voice. No one took her up on her offer. "Oh, come on. I'll go easy on you. We don't even have to bet." She pressed.

Dean looked up at his brother with a smirk. Sam shook his head warily, knowing what Dean was about to do.

"You're on." Dean challenged, smoothly slipping off his jacket and shoving it into Sam's arms. The smile immediately left Jade's face.

"No, that's okay. Really, I can find someone else." She answered, brushing him off.

"You scared?" He mocked, triggering 'Oooos' from the surrounding patrons, reminiscent of an eighth grade classroom when a kid is called down to the principal's office.

"Of you?" She scoffed.

"Of me horribly embarrassing you? Oh, yeah." He said, moving to stand in front of her.

She stared at him for a moment, scrutinizing his confrontational stance. Her relentless stare made Dean want to squirm, but he stood his ground. She sighed. "Fine. You break." She handed him her pool stick and went over to stand at the table where her beer was sitting.

Dean smiled when he sunk two solids in his first shot. He threw Jade a triumphant glance and she tipped her beer bottle to him in feigned admiration. She wasn't surprised that he was pretty good at pool. It was practically a given considering the amount of time she assumed he spent in bars. He hit two more consecutive shots before overshooting the seven-ball on the side pocket.

Jade stepped up to the table, pool stick in hand. She got to work sinking shot after shot until there were only three balls left for her. Dean started getting antsy as he watched her play her way to victory. He moved from where he was standing to lean up against the pool table, intentionally invading Jade's personal bubble.

"So where'd you get your skills?" Dean asked, his voice rough. She smiled widely and Dean could see her eyes light up in amusement as she focused on her shot.

"I've been to a lot of bars in my life. And I come here pretty much every night after work." She answered, humoring his attempt at distraction. She punched her stick forward banking the ten into the corner pocket.

He frowned as she went to line up her next shot. He followed closely behind. "Sounds like an exciting life you lead." He responded sarcastically.

"It's simple. I enjoy it." She shrugged.

"Simple or boring?" He pressed, annoyed by her lack of reaction.

She shook her head and laughed. She effortlessly tapped the fourteen-ball in, leaving only the eight ball for her to sink. "Okay, I need to tell you something that will help you in the future. Your first mistake here was missing a shot. The only way to guarantee a win is to not let me play. Your second mistake was the cockiness because it'll be that much more embarrassing when I beat you." She walked behind him, sensually brushing against him as she went to where the cue ball sat. Dean fought to control the slight shiver that ran down his spine at her touch. "And your third mistake was this pathetic attempt at distracting me. You'll have to try a lot harder than that." She finished. She bent over the table to line up her final shot.

"How do _you_ suggest I distract you?" He asked, bringing his face down to her level, his minty breath hot on her cheek.

She turned her head from the table to stare into his haunting, hazel eyes. "I don't know. You'll have to use your imagination." She said, moving her face slightly closer to his. Dean's eyes moved to her lips and a wide grin spread across his face as his mind wandered. "Eight-ball. Left corner pocket." She whispered.

"Huh?" Dean asked, snapping out of his fantasy.

She smirked and, while keeping her eyes locked on Dean's, knocked the pool stick against the cue ball, which ricocheted off the eight ball, sailing it smoothly into the left corner pocket.

Dean had torn his eyes away to watch the perfect shot play out. He stared at the table, stunned to silence as the bar erupted into cheers around him.

"That's game." She whispered into his ear, dancing around him as she sauntered over to her beer and finished it off with a final gulp.


	4. Will the Real Charlie W Please Stand Up?

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey guys! It's been a while. This chapter took me a while to write because I've had a lot of exams the past couple of weeks, but if you notice it's longer than my other chapters. My Halloween Treat for you (at least I hope it's a treat). If you get a chance I'd really appreciate if you'd review. I'd like some feedback about what you think of the story (hate it, love it, think it's nothing like the show, have questions, etc). Let me know! You can be brutally honest. In fact, I encourage it. Or give me any suggestions you might have and who knows I might run with it. Thanks so much for reading this and I hope you enjoy it. Happy Halloween! And Happy Thursday! I'm sure I'm not the only one excited about a new episode of Supernatural tonight (at least in the U.S.) Okay, now here's the chapter. Oh! And by the way, the fake Charlie (a.k.a. Mac) is going to have apostrophes around his name (like this: 'Charlie') because the boys still think he's the real Charlie. Ok go!

Chapter Four

Will The Real Charlie Warren Please Stand Up?

Sam looked on in awe as he watched Jade spank his brother at pool. It wasn't the fact that she won; it was the way she did it that was so mesmerizing. Her confidence was unflappable. Sam believed that she would have been just as amazing to watch even if she had lost. Her personality was intoxicating: a good mixture of grace, humor, spunk, and kindness (to those who she considered friends.) She was a little overwhelming and Sam wasn't sure how to react.

"You can't help but be impressed by her, huh?" 'Charlie' asked, noticing Sam's intense stare. Sam hadn't noticed that he had company.

"Yeah, she's uh…" He laughed to himself, unable to find the right words.

"I know what you mean." 'Charlie' agreed.

"An enigma. That's the right word, I think." Sam said, watching her approach the two of them.

"Perfect description." 'Charlie' mumbled right as she came to stand next to him in order to finish off her beer.

"Good game." Sam complimented her.

"Thank you." She smiled. "I need a refill. Anyone else?" She offered, throwing a wink Sam's way. He cleared his throat.

"I'm good. Thanks." He replied. She nodded and walked over to the bar. Sam watched her go.

"If you're trying to figure her out, don't bother. I've known her for years and you were spot on. She's _still_ an enigma to me." 'Charlie' clapped Sam on the back and went to join his buddies on the other side of the bar. Sam snapped out of his daze and cursed himself for blowing his opportunity to talk to 'Charlie'.

Dean approached with a sour expression on his face as Sam applauded his efforts. Sam laughed happily at Dean's look. "Very nice." He said sarcastically.

"Shut up!" Dean huffed, embarrassed by his utter defeat. "Did you talk to Charlie?"

"Not yet. Not about helping us, at least." Sam answered.

"So basically we both suck." Dean said, slumping against the wall. He topped off his beer, shot Sam a glance and headed to the bar. "I'm going to go and try a different tactic." Dean said as he walked away from his brother.

"Is this seat empty?" Dean asked, gesturing to the chair beside Jade.

"Yeah, but mine might be too if you sit down." She retorted, fixing him with an icy glare.

Dean laughed genuinely. "Cute." He said before taking the seat. The bartender approached, giving Jade her beer and taking Dean's order. When the bartender left, Dean attempted to strike up a conversation. "So I'm getting the impression that you don't like me too much."

She turned her focus from her beer to Dean's face. "Really? 'Cause I thought the feeling was mutual."

"I have no problem with you." Dean said. She scoffed in disbelief.

"Yeah, now that you want information from me, you have no problem with me." She responded. Dean seemed flustered by her accusation.

"Excuse me?"

"Look, I really don't want to put up with your crap. Charlie told me you're here to convince him to do something for you. If you want to get to him through me at least be direct about it. Don't try to charm or smooth talk me. I'm not an idiot." Dean stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. She brought her fingers up to the stubble on his chin and pushed his jaw shut. She could hear the sharp clack of his teeth. Dean gathered himself together.

"Well, I guess I should just cut the shit then, huh?"

"You're catching on." She took a sip of her beer.

"You and Charlie seem close." Jade smiled to herself, reflecting on just how true that statement was. "Are you related?" Dean asked.

"Nope. Just coworkers—friends. Charlie doesn't have any family." Dean nodded, scanning the room for the last remnant of his own family. Sam was happily talking with some of Charlie's friends.

"So pretty much the only thing tying him here is the shop."

"No. The thing that's holding him here is his life. He's happy here—it's good for him. He's had a shady past and for the first time in a long time things seem to be going well. So just leave it alone." She explained.

"Is that why you don't like me? You're protective of him?" She shrugged. "I think he can take care of himself and make his own decisions." Dean said rationally.

"I believe he made his decision when he said no to you." She pointed out.

"Fair enough. Do you think there is _anything_ I could do to change his mind?" Jade sighed. She swiveled in her chair so that she was completely facing Dean and looked directly into his eyes. When she answered, her tone was very serious.

"No, there isn't. So please, just stop trying."

Dean nodded and opened his mouth to talk again when Sam interrupted him.

"I…um, sorry guys. Dean, I left my phone in the Impala. Can I have the keys?" Dean smacked the sides of his pocket, fishing around for them and then handing them over to Sam. Jade watched as Sam retreated through the doors.

"You and your brother seem close." Jade mentioned, still staring at the door that Sam had disappeared through.

"Not so much lately." Dean muttered, but she heard him clearly.

"Why not?" She asked, seeming truly curious.

"You know, it's just different. I mean, things change." Dean wasn't focused on the woman in front of him anymore. Instead he was looking into space, lost in thoughts and memories.

"At least you still have someone." Jade said earnestly, looking down at her hands quietly.

They sat in reflective silence. After a few moments Jade sighed, lifted her beer and tilted it towards him. Dean stared at the bottle for a minute. A smile settled on his lips as he gently clicked his bottle against hers in an appreciative toast.

After awhile. Jade became bored by the newfound silence and started looking around the room. A group of friends in the far left corner of the room caught her eye. She didn't recognize any of them. They definitely weren't locals. She locked eyes with one of them: a busty blonde with bright green eyes (probably color contacts). A shiver ran down her spine.

Dean noticed her involuntary shudder and looked to see what had captivated her attention. The blonde noticed his stare as well and responded with a flirtatious wave and seductive smile. Dean gladly smiled back.

"So…do you play for the other team? Because that would actually explain a lot." He asked Jade.

She snapped her attention from the blonde back to Dean. "What? Oh…uh no. I like guys. I just don't recognize her or her friends. It's a little strange. Most people who come here are regulars. No big deal though."

It was then that Sam returned from outside, clutching his phone in his hand. He approached the pair quickly. Sam directed his attention to his brother. "I have a few missed calls from Bobby. I guess he finally got back to us. I was getting worried about him. Anyway, I tried to call him back, but he didn't pick up."

Dean shrugged. "Honestly Sam, I'm not sure how much Bobby's info would help our situation anyway." At that moment Sam's phone lit up displaying the name BOBBY across the screen.

"I guess we'll find out." Sam said, answering the phone and walking to the exit so he could better hear the conversation.

Dean turned back to Jade to tell her he'd be right back, but when he looked to the seat beside him he found it unoccupied. Scanning the room, Dean couldn't find Jade anywhere. Puzzled, he moved to follow Sam outside, but stopped when the busty blonde from earlier blocked his path.

"I saw you looking at me a minute ago. I thought you might want to go somewhere a little more private. So we could get to know each other a little more…intimately." She whispered in his ear.

Dean couldn't help but smile. "Why don't we start with names?"

"Shana. Yours?"

"Dean."

"So how about my offer?" Dean hesitated, flicking his gaze from her body to the doors.

"I need to do something real quick, but I swear I'll be right back." Dean promised.

She ran her hand down his chest. "Don't be too long." She purred, licking her lips and turning away from him.

Dean let his gaze linger on her ass as she walked back across the room before tearing himself away and following Sam out the door.

Dean arrived outside to find Sam in mid-conversation with Bobby. "I know Bobby, we're morons and you're pissed at us—mostly me. I get it." Sam huffed. "Is that why you didn't return our phone calls? Cause you were pissed about the apocalypse thing?" Sam asked.

"Of course! You idjits, break the final seal, start the apocalypse, and you don't bother to come tell me face to face. You call and tell me in a voicemail no less! You didn't even say if you two were okay! You've got some nerve boy." Bobby ranted.

"I'm sorry." Sam murmured, guiltily.

"Well, that's not good enough!" Bobby yelled and then paused for a moment. "I needed a few days to cool off before talking to you so I've been scouting for surges of demonic omens." Bobby explained. Dean stood next to Sam, trying to get his attention and ask what Bobby was saying.

"And?" Sam asked.

"And nothing. There doesn't seem to be any major shifts yet. Some of the usual lightning storm and cattle mutilations, but that's about it."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know. It's the calm before the storm, I guess. Either way, we need to get together and figure out a game plan. Where are you?" He asked.

"Massachusetts. That's why we didn't come to you right away. Castiel sent us on a mission." Sam said.

"What kind of mission?" Bobby asked skeptically.

"We're supposed to convince a retired hunter to join the fight."

"Well, why the hell didn't you mention that before? Did you ever think I could have helped you?" Bobby scolded him.

"I'm not the one who didn't answer my phone!" Sam retorted.

"Don't sass me boy!"

"Sorry." Sam sighed as Dean smacked him on the arm for talking back to Bobby. "Do you know Charlie Warren?"

Sam noticed Bobby's hesitation. "Of course. One of the best damn hunters I've ever seen." Sam could hear the smile in his voice.

"Well, that would be great, but he won't listen to anything we say. He just keeps shutting us down. You got any advice on how to approach him about the subject?"

Bobby was silent on the end of the line for a long moment, making Sam think he had lost the signal. Dean gave Sam a quizzical look. "Hello?" Sam questioned.

"I'm sorry. I must have heard you wrong. Did you say _he_?" Bobby asked slowly.

"Uh…yes?" Sam replied, the intended statement sounding more like a question.

Then something strange happened: Bobby burst into a boisterous fit of laughter. It was so loud that Sam had to yank the phone away from his ear so it wouldn't damage his hearing. Sam had never heard anyone- especially Bobby- laugh so hard. He could imagine involuntary tears welling up in the older man's eyes.

"Bobby?" His laughter gradually died down.

"You boys are morons." He let out a final chuckle before continuing. "This is why you should have come to me. You've just been wasting your time."

This got Sam annoyed. "How so?" He snapped.

"You've been looking for the wrong person. The only retired hunter that I know of by the name of Charlie Warren is a woman."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, sparking Dean's curiosity. "Wait, what?" Sam asked.

"Charlie is a girl. And apparently she really got one over on you." Bobby repeated as another fit of laughter took over.

"That's impossible. We've been talking to _him_ all day. I mean Charlie can't be a girl." Sam argued.

When Dean heard his brother's statement his eyes widened. "What?" Sam waved his hand at Dean, signaling for him to shut up. Annoyed, Dean reached for the phone and the two struggled for a moment before Dean won out and punched the phone on speaker mode.

"Hello?" Bobby had been shouting during their struggle.

"Yeah, Bobby we're here. What do you mean Charlie is a girl?" Dean asked gruffly.

"What do you think it means? She's made up of different parts than you and me. What the hell kind of question is that?" Bobby was clearly annoyed.

"Okay, what does she look like?" Sam asked.

Bobby mulled it over. "I haven't seen her in years. I'm not sure. She probably looks different. I'd say she's either a year younger or older than you, Sam. I can't remember which one. She's pretty tall, dark hair, tan skin. Built with the muscles of a hunter…and the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen. She got that from her dad. Full name: Charlie Jade Warren." Bobby finished, a wistful air to his voice.

"Jade?" Dean growled.

"Yeah."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled as Sam also put the pieces together.

"Bobby, we're gonna have to call you back." Sam said, snapping the phone shut before Bobby had a chance to respond.

"Keys." Dean demanded, stalking toward the far corner of the parking lot where the Impala was parked.

"What are we going to do?" Sam asked.

"We're going to find the real Charlie Warren." He replied.

The boys had almost reached the car when a voice from behind stopped them. "Dean!" Shana called out to him. "I thought you said you'd be right back."

Sam looked puzzled as Dean turned towards her. She walked towards them until she was standing right in front of Dean. "Sweetheart, this really isn't the best time." He turned back to the car, trying to blow her off. She laughed. Dean felt a vice like grip on his shoulder, spinning him around.

"I think it's the perfect time." Her tone was icy as Dean stared at her face in surprise, her green eyes transforming to demonic black. She punched him sharply in the eye, slicing his face and then shoved him hard, sending him careening into a nearby SUV. There was a sharp thud as he smacked his head against the car, discombobulating him.

"Dean!" Sam shouted in concern as he saw his brother slumped against the car. Before he could move to help Dean, Shana had suspended him in mid-air and pinned him up against the wall of the bar with a flick of her hand.

"I have heard so much about you, Sam. In fact, I don't know of a single demon that hasn't heard of the great Sam Winchester. So I gotta say, I'm a little disappointed about how easy this was. I thought Ruby had trained you better. But I guess it's a bit harder to fight without fresh demon blood coursing through your veins." Sam struggled against her hold on him. She approached him and took a large knife out of the holster at her ankle. She ran the flat portion along Sam's face. "You seem nervous Sam. But don't worry. This isn't for you." She slowly ran the pointed edge along her arm, leaving a shiny streak of blood. Sam paled. "Are you thirsty Sam?" She taunted, bringing her forearm up to his mouth. He turned his head, breathing hard in resistance to the metallic drug. She grabbed his face, forcing it to hover above her blood soaked arm. "Drink up Sammy." She said with a satisfied smile.

Before Sam had a chance to make a decision, Dean tackled Shana from behind, releasing Sam of his temptation and his trap against the wall. Dean punched her in the face a few times and tossed the keys to the Impala to Sam. "Get the knife!" He hollered. Sam rushed to the car, but was stopped by the two men that had come to the bar with Shana. Their eyes were jet black. Sam fought the two men, trying to bat them away long enough to get to the car for provisions.

Dean had Shana pinned to the ground, seemingly unconscious so he rushed over to help Sam. He suddenly found himself careening through the air once more and slamming into a parked car. "What the hell?" Dean muttered, rubbing the back of his head as Shana approached menacingly.

She had picked up her knife and was expertly twirling it through her fingers. "Dean, that really wasn't nice. Didn't your mommy ever teach you not to hit a girl?" She sneered. "Oops, I forgot. She never got the chance, did she?" Dean clenched his jaw.

"I gotta say I usually don't enjoy this part, but I can't _wait_ to send you back to hell." Dean replied, a cocky grin appearing on his dirty and blood leaking face.

She laughed. "How about I meet you there? Say goodbye, Dean." She said through a dangerous grin. She moved forward, but before she made much progress Dean heard the rumblings of an engine. He watched as a blue Camaro came screeching around a corner at full speed and smashed into Shana, sending her crumbling to the street several yards away.

"Goodbye." Dean muttered as he stared at Shana's crumpled form, momentarily stunned. Instead of taking the moment to assess the situation he immediately ran to help Sam. The two male demons were struggling to hold Sam back. Dean heard the slamming of a car door as he attacked the man on Sam's right. Suddenly his brother was free, fleeing to the Impala to get the knife.

Dean turned to see the other man pinned to the ground, holy water boiling down the demon's throat, burning his esophagus, and spilling out of his mouth. Jade was straddling him to restrain him as she quickly chanted an exorcism in Latin. When she finished a huge gust of black smoke erupted from his mouth and disappeared.

She got up from the now unconscious demon-free man to shove Dean away from the other man and repeat the process. Sam returned to the fight, knife in hand to find both men unconscious. Sam was confused, but he noticed Shana slowly getting up from the road and rushed over, plunging the knife into her leg, effectively killing the demon inside.

Dean stared at Jade in surprise. She flipped open her cell-phone, calling for an ambulance. Sam joined the pair once more.

"We need to leave before the cops show up." She said simply.

"Lead the way. _Charlie_." Dean replied with a glare.


	5. The Evil of Indifference

Hunter's Mystique

**Author's Note**: Hey guys! Hope all is well. I just got back from Thanksgiving break (hope everyone had an awesome one!) during which I wrote this chapter (the longest one yet!). I really hope you like it and if you don't well hey I tried. Just wanted to warn you that I'm going to have finals soon and I haven't even started writing the next chapter so you might not get another one until around Christmas time. But hey, you never know, I always procrastinate before studying and you all might luck out with my studying laziness! Anyway, I want to thank everyone who has made this a favorite story or put it as an alert. That's really cool and it makes me happy that you like the story. You guys rock! Please review if you have time, I like reading others thoughts on this subject. Thanks again! And I hope this can hold you all over while Supernatural is on break (the one reason I dislike the holiday season!). Okay, feel free to read it now. :)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

Chapter Five

The Evil of Indifference

"Lead the way. _Charlie_." Dean replied with a glare.

The sound of her name made her stop in her tracks. She snapped her head up to look at Dean. The word _Charlie_ echoed through her brain, bouncing around her head as she mulled over the implications of its use. Her secret was out. She knew it would be the moment she stepped into the fight, but that didn't stop her sudden panic. But despite that and the biting tone Dean took with her, she couldn't help but enjoy the way her name tumbled out of his mouth.

Charlie ebbed her emotions, letting the boys in on nothing. "Wow. You caught me. Bravo! Now get over it, stop glaring, and follow me before the cops arrive." Charlie sneered. After a moments pause she turned, got in her car, and started the engine, waiting a moment for the boys to follow suit.

The cars peeled out of the parking lot, Dean tailing Charlie by inches. Charlie rode in silence, using the deep rumble of the engine to sort out her thoughts. In the next car, Dean ranted angrily, more to himself than his brother as Sam concentrated on the road in front of them, trying to figure things out.

About ten minutes later the boys parked behind Charlie in her driveway. She quickly walked into her house without sending them a second glance and they followed her warily inside. As soon as they were in, she slammed the door shut and dead bolted it. She went to the large window towards the front of the house, peeking through it for signs of a tail. When she was satisfied that there weren't any unwanted followers, she snapped the blinds shut.

Charlie turned to the boys, finally acknowledging their presence. They were staring at her, wide-eyed. She examined them too; noting the mixture of dried and fresh blood caked along their arms, legs, and faces. She sighed.

"Wait here a minute." Charlie ordered quietly. She disappeared into the hallway and up the stairs before Dean even had a chance to question why.

The minute Charlie was out of sight the boys began inspecting the room without a word to one another. Taking a glance around the living room, they saw the deep blue walls lined with various framed pictures- some of Charlie and strangers, some of epic sport moments, and others of movie posters. Despite the assortment of the framed content, they worked well in their arrangement. There was a couch toward the front of the room that was facing a forty-inch plasma screen television. There was a coffee table in front of the couch, a lounge chair to its right, and a fireplace on the wall to its left. Towards the back of the very large room there seemed to be a study area. There was a bookcase to the right of the fireplace, followed by a large desk with an opened laptop sitting on it. To the other side of the desk there was one more bookshelf against the corner of that wall and then four more up against the back wall. The bookshelves formed an impressive library, each shelf almost completely filled with volumes of books. In front of the line of four bookcases there was a long table with papers and books strewn haphazardly across it.

Dean headed straight for the library, scanning the shelves and hoping the only reason Castiel sent them to Charlie was because she had some special book that would help them. Sam went for the desk, eying the open laptop sitting on it. When he got to the computer, he saw that the only opened program was a game of spider solitaire. He clicked on a few files only to find them safe-guarded with some intense password encryption software. He gave up on the computer for now and decided to focus on more accessible information. The desk seemed to be the only surface in the room that was not littered with paper. Sam opened the first drawer of the desk, finding what seemed to be a photo album. He started reaching for the book when he had to snatch his hand away from the drawer that was quickly slamming closed. Charlie had rammed it shut with her hip, nearly crushing Sam's fingers inside.

"Jeez, I didn't even hear you." Sam hissed, working to slow his thumping heart. Dean whipped around at the sudden sound, looking both bewildered and a tad guilty at the same time. "You could have broken my fingers." Sam whined.

"But I didn't. And if I had, I believe it would have been a fair consequence of your snooping. Though I should have known better than to leave two hunters in my house unsupervised." She reasoned.

Sam glared at her for a minute, but was quickly distracted by a large box she had just retrieved from upstairs. "What's that?"

Without answering, Charlie plopped the box down on the desk with a thump. She took off the lid, allowing Sam to peek inside and see the contents of a first aid kit.

"Oh." Sam said disappointed when he realized what was in the box. "You didn't have to do that. We just have a few cuts and bruises. We're fine." He explained.

"I'm sure you are, but with cuts comes blood and I don't want the two of you leaving blood stains all over my house." She said with a laugh. "Now come here."

She grabbed his face, quickly wiping his cuts with alcohol swabs and bandaging them. She finished quickly and handed him a washcloth to clean off the dried blood and disinfectant to apply to the cuts on his arms and legs. Sam was in awe of Charlie through the entire process. He was once again taken aback by her boldness and general gracefulness. She was finished before he even realized it and he stuttered out a genuine "Thank you."

Charlie smiled at him before rummaging through the first aid kit, pulling out a few items, and walking over to Dean. As she advanced towards him, Dean backed away slowly. She stopped walking, confused. Dean settled her with a stony glare.

"What are you doing?" She asked him.

"Wondering why you're coming at me with needles." He growled.

"Because your eyeball is practically hanging out of its socket and I thought you might want it popped back in." She teased, mocking his tone.

"My eye is fine." He said, though the way he brought his hand to his face showed Charlie he couldn't be sure.

"Really? Because your demonic girlfriend back there was wearing enough chunky ass rings to form her very own brass knuckles and it looks like she slashed you right across your eye." Charlie explained. Dean pulled his hand away from his eye to find fresh blood staining his fingers.

"I'll be fine."

"Dean. Just let her do it."

"No!" He snapped.

"Wow, I didn't think you were such a wimp." Charlie mocked.

"I'm not a wimp. I just don't trust you." Dean snapped.

"Well, I'd let Sam do it, but it's so close to your eye that I don't think the rough stitching that you two are probably used to is gonna cut it. So if you think the next hot girl you meet is going to want to sleep with a dude whose eye is hanging out with an unnecessary scar next to it- be my guest. It's _your_ face, pretty boy." Charlie held his stare for a long moment and then pulled out the chair next to her for him to sit in when he eventually gave in.

With a huff, Dean stormed over to her. Charlie turned her head back to Sam, giving him a knowing wink. She returned her gaze to Dean, gesturing for him to sit in the chair. He narrowed his eyes, defiantly choosing to lean against the table rather than sit in the chair in a childish attempt at showing his control of the situation.

Charlie laughed and pushed the chair back into the table. "Whatever dude, I just thought you'd be more comfortable."

She approached him slowly and then lightly grabbed his face to hold it steady as she cleaned the wound. Dean stared at Charlie as she worked, scrutinizing her every feature. She concentrated on cleaning the cut as thoroughly as possible in order to avoid infection. When she was finished cleaning it out, she picked up her needle and surgical thread.

"You want something to bite for the pain?" She asked simply.

"No." He grumbled, wanting her to just hurry up and get it over with.

"Okay, have it your way." Charlie consented. She threaded the needle. She held his face firm in one hand, struggling at first as he tried to cringe away, and started sewing his skin together with the other.

Sam decided to speak up in order to distract Dean from what was going on. He knew that it was even close to the most painful wound Dean had ever had, but stitches were never comfortable to have put it, especially ones on your face. "So uh…Charlie, are you originally from Boston?"

Still focused on Dean's face, she slowly answered Sam's questions. "No, I had passed through a few times and had always liked it here, so I set up shop."

"So you like living here then?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure." She answered.

"This is a pretty big house. You live alone?"

"Sam, look around. I know you're smart and it doesn't take a genius to see that I do, in fact, live alone."

"Right." He said quietly, more to himself then to her.

She moved her hands deftly across Dean's eye as he winced and gritted his teeth. His knuckles were ghostly white from the way he was clutching the table, whether from pain or annoyance Charlie couldn't tell.

"Okay, just one more minute and I'll be done." Charlie murmured. Dean let out a quick breath of relief. Charlie finished off the final stitch and set the needle and thread down on the table. Dean moved to get up, but she pushed his shoulders back down and grabbed his face. He stared at her, clearly surprised as she moved his face from side to side, comparing both eyes and inspecting her work. She hadn't fully realized what she was doing until she noticed his hazel eyes looking into hers. She coughed awkwardly and withdrew her hand.

"You're good to go." Charlie backed away, putting the needle and thread back into the box. She tossed Dean some bandages and disinfectant to clean up his other injuries.

"Thanks." Dean mumbled and then began dressing his wounds.

Sam cleared his throat, reminding his companions that he was still in the room.

"So do you have any family around here?" Sam continued his slow paced questioning.

"No." Charlie answered firmly, letting the boys know that a new topic was called for.

Sam seemed to be at a loss for how to approach the real topic he wanted to discuss.

"Sam, stop minding your manners and cut to the chase because you kind of suck at small talk." Charlie joked, leaning casually against the wall.

Sam laughed. "When did you retire?"

"From hunting?" Charlie asked making sure they were all on the same page. Sam nodded. "A little over four years ago."

"Why?"

"I was done."

"What made to decide you were done?" Sam asked. Charlie looked down at her hands.

"Next question." She said.

"But…"

"Next. Question." She stated calmly but firmly, immediately ending Sam's protest.

"Okay then, how did you get started?" Sam asked. Charlie narrowed her eyes, wondering why he wasn't asking the questions they really wanted answers to- whether she would join them or not.

"My dad was a hunter. When I was a kid he would disappear for weeks at a time, which always made me curious. Um…He didn't want me to know about this life 'cause he didn't want anything to happen to me, you know? Eventually, I guilted him in to telling me why he was always gone. And from then on I uh…I wouldn't let him go without me." She smiled at the memory. "I was a stubborn kid." She added.

"Was?" Dean remarked, finally breaking his silence.

Charlie laughed at Dean's comment, making him more annoyed.

"Where is your dad now?" Sam asked tentatively, getting the feeling he wouldn't like the answer.

"Dead. Killed when I was fifteen." She revealed, sadly.

Both boys muttered their condolences, but she quickly waved them off. "How do you know Bobby?" Sam asked after a long lull in the conversation, his mind flashing back to the earlier phone call.

"Bobby Singer?" She tried to clarify. Sam nodded. "Uh…he's an old friend. Worked with my dad a few times when I was younger and then with me when I was older. He comes in handy. He's like the personification of a supernatural search engine." Her joke fell flat on the boys' ears.

"Yea, I guess he kind of is." Sam commented after a brief period of uncomfortable silence.

"You know what? Enough." Dean blurted out from the far corner of the room. "I'm sick of the small talk because frankly I don't give a shit about any of this."

Charlie was surprisingly calm and unsurprised by Dean's outburst while Sam stood back, glaring at Dean for his tact.

"By all means, speak your mind." Charlie interrupted his rant.

"Thanks for the permission." Dean responded sarcastically. "Now I would like to know why you wasted my time by lying to us about who you were."

"I didn't outright lie at first." She argued.

"Bullshit!"

"I didn't! You came in assuming that I was a dude because my name is Charlie and because from your perspective the best hunters are men. I just let you play out your assumptions."

"Yea right. That's why you dragged your friend into this and then kept up the damn charade at the bar. There was no reason for it." Dean yelled, his anger building with each word.

"I was just trying to figure out a way to make you leave without discovering who I really was." She stated calmly.

"Why? Afraid it wouldn't be so easy to turn us down if we explained ourselves?" Dean pressed.

"No."

"Then what?!" He shouted.

"I'm supposed to be dead!" She shouted back, finally getting worked up.

"What?" Sam asked quietly.

"There was a _very_ convincing rumor going around that I died. How do you think my retirement has been so successful?"

"Who started this rumor?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"I did."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"So hunters and demons alike wouldn't look for me- so I could get a real life." She explained.

"Well, you're real life is over. We need your help. Or the world will end." Dean growled.

She seemed taken aback by his comment. "What?"

"Yeah, end of the world. The apocalypse. It's kind of impending, which is why we need your help." Dean continued.

Charlie recovered from her surprise quickly. "No. I can't."

"Are you serious?" Dean was bewildered.

"Look, I don't have to explain myself to you. I have my reasons. I'm done with hunting and I can't go back to it." Charlie looked down at her hands, wringing them together shamefully.

"Then why did you save us?" Sam asked.

"Huh?"

"You say you're done with hunting- that you don't want anyone to know where you are. Then why did you save us? Let us die back there and all your problems are solved." Sam said rationally.

Charlie hesitated. "I-I don't know. I left my jacket at the bar and when I was driving back to get it I saw you in trouble. I just acted. I wasn't about to just let you die."

"Exactly. It's in your instincts- hunting. You can't just let people die." Sam argued.

Charlie needed a change of subject. "How did you find me anyway? We've never met and I know Bobby didn't send you."

"Castiel." Sam answered quietly.

"Who is he?" She pushed, switching focus to Dean when Sam wouldn't answer.

"He's an angel." Dean explained. Charlie didn't reply, waiting for him to keep speaking. "Basically Lucifer is back, walking the earth and gathering his demon followers to destroy the world. And Castiel- kind of like our personal angel guide- is trying to help us fight Lucifer and avoid the apocalypse." He finished his explanation, leaving the room silent as Charlie processed his story.

"Well, your friend- Castiel- is wrong. I can't help you. The apocalypse is gonna come with or without me. The world is going to end, nothing I do will fix that. So stop asking." She was frustratingly calm in the wake of the information overload she had been given.

She moved away from the boys, putting the first aid kit by the foot of the stairs and giving them the hint that the conversation was over.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dean hissed. Charlie froze at the tone of his voice. "You can't be the same girl Bobby spoke so highly of on the phone."

She sighed and gritted her teeth. "I'm not. Didn't you hear? That girl died four and a half years ago. And she's gonna stay buried."

Dean continued as if she hadn't spoken. "It must have been something tragic to make you stop. I mean, you told us earlier that you're the one who wanted to start hunting in the first place." He was getting closer now, taking slow steps with each sentence. "Are you afraid?" He taunted. "Did you have a near death experience? Or maybe…did you _actually_ die?" He asked with a laugh, as if saying 'been there, done that'. "Or…did you lose someone?" Charlie stiffened at his words as his hot breath tickled the back of her neck.

"This tactic of yours isn't going to work." She spat over her shoulder, fists clenched as her anger rose.

"Oh look Sammy, I seem to have hit a nerve." Dean taunted.

"Dean…" Sam warned, noticing the flush of red that began creeping up her ears.

"That's it, isn't it? You lost someone and you couldn't handle it. So you quit." Dean ran through a million different scenarios, trying to imagine what could have possibly screwed this chick up so royally.

"Shut up." She growled. The cracks in her composure deepened with each moment.

"Oh, I am right on target, aren't I? So who was it? Huh? I mean was it someone you just failed to save? A hunt gone wrong? Or was it someone close to you?" Charlie visibly flinched. "Who? A friend? Sibling? Parent? A boyfriend?" Dean ticked off the options slowly, so caught up in his ploy that he wasn't prepared when Charlie whirled around, clutching Dean's throat and slamming him to the floor.

Sam moved to help his brother, but Charlie held her hand up, signaling him to stop. "One more step and I break his neck." She hissed. Sam froze. She brought her face closer to Dean, straddling him as she began to speak. "Now you listen to me you cocky son of a bitch. Don't you dare presume to know anything about my life- past or present. You don't know what my life has been like. So stop judging." She said angrily.

Charlie thought she had gotten her point across when a smirk appeared across Dean's face. He kept pushing her. "Who was it? Who'd you lose?" He choked out as her grip on his throat tightened.

"Everyone." She seethed. She slammed his head against the ground and then leaped off of Dean as if he had bit her.

She started breathing heavily like it took every ounce of effort she had to restrain herself from hurting him.

"You can say whatever you want, but I just can't. I'm sorry. Good luck." Charlie said as Sam helped Dean off of the floor. "You should really go." She suggested, turning her back to them and covering her mouth in surprise at her actions. She went to the door, freeing the dead bolt and walked back to where she had been standing. Recovering back to her normal façade, she faced the boys with a stern stare.

The brothers stared at the stubborn girl with a mix of emotions- pity, confusion, envy, but mostly anger. Finally Sam turned to go, pulling on Dean's arm in order to drag him along.

Dean yanked his arm away. "You know, I doubt you've lost everyone, but if you stand by and do nothing you will. Every life you've ever saved and living person you've ever known will die. Because of your indifference."

Charlie couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She felt numb- almost paralyzed. Her head was throbbing and her stomach felt completely hollow. Her throat burned like she was going to be sick.

Dean took the prolonged silence as a deafening "no" and started following Sam out of the room. When they got to the front door, Dean turned to look back at Charlie, staring deep into her eyes. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth, in the most intimidating expression he could possibly muster.

"You know? I bet your dad would be _so_ proud of you right now. He raised a real winner of a daughter." He spat out sarcastically. As much as she wanted to she couldn't pull her eyes away from his. He shook his head in disbelief, tearing his eyes away from her, and banged the door closed behind him. The sound echoed around the large room.

Charlie heard the Impala's engine rumble and walked over to the door when she knew for sure that the boys were gone. She breathed heavily and leaned her head against the cool door. The sound of her own breath felt foreign to her ears. She couldn't stand the silence of her empty house.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered, knowing no one could hear her as she slowly sagged against the door and sunk to the floor.


	6. Misery Loves Company

Hunter's Mystique

**Author's Note**: Hey guys! So I'm pretty pumped that I was able to work on this and get it done way earlier than I thought. I needed something to help me procrastinate from study for my finals this week right? Anyway I just wanted to give a special thanks to all those who have reviewed and made my story a favorite or alert. I really appreciate it all and this one is for you guys. I hope you enjoy it and hopefully I get another one out in time for a nice little Holiday gift for all those who read this!! Thanks! Please review if you've got the time!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

Chapter Six

Misery Loves Company

Charlie didn't know how long she sat crumpled against the front door staring off into space. It could have been minutes or hours for all she knew or cared. The empty silence caused a ringing in her ears. It took all she had to concentrate on breathing and keeping everything that Sam and Dean had said out of her mind.

A sharp knock on the door echoed across the room, breaking the elongated silence. She snapped out of her daze, feeling the vibration of the knock as it literally shook her head and shivered down her spine.

She didn't want to answer it at first- she didn't want to move at all. She didn't think she could handle another confrontation with the brothers. The voice in her head kept telling her to just ignore it, but the knocking was loud and incessant.

Worried that something might be seriously wrong, she finally got up and answered the door. Mac stood before her with an uneasy smile across his face.

"Hey." He said sheepishly.

"What are you doing here?" She replied immediately, ignoring his greeting.

"Waiting for you to remember your manners and invite me in." He answered sternly.

Charlie sighed, flinging the door open fully and summoning him into the room. "Hey Mac. Come on in!" She said loudly and sarcastically.

He grinned and went into the house, walking over to her couch and settling himself in it. "Alright, now that the pleasantries are over can you please answer my question?"

Mac rolled his eyes at her attitude and quickly tossed something at Charlie, which she swiftly snatched out of the air. It was her jacket- the reason she had returned to the bar in the first place and had had her true identity revealed.

"You were in such a hurry to leave tonight that you left this at the bar, which is interesting since it's your favorite jacket." He told her, as if she wasn't aware.

"Thanks." She said simply, joining him on the couch.

"You bailed earlier and missed out on some drama." Mac continued speaking when Charlie didn't ask him to elaborate. "Cops got a tip and showed up to find two men laying unconscious and a young blonde bleeding out something major from her leg. She don't remember nothing."

Charlie rolled her eyes at his awful use of grammar. "She's probably in shock." She stated, easily rationalizing the woman's lack of memory. Mac nodded slowly, examining Charlie closely. "Anything else?" She asked, more harshly than necessary.

"Well, I stopped by to drop off your coat and make sure you were okay. See you left right around the time that the cops estimated for the attack. I was worried about you."

Charlie softened when she heard the sincerity in his voice. "I'm fine. Thanks. I appreciate your concern. Seriously."

Mac just stared at her for a long while, making her squirm uncomfortably. "You sure?" She nodded. "Because you're bleeding." He said simply, nodding his head at the blood smeared across her arm. He was wrong. It wasn't her blood, but that would have been much harder to explain away.

"Oh, uh…yeah it's dried. I sliced my arm at the bar. That's why I left so quickly. Wanted to make sure I didn't get an infection, you know?" She said, blurting out the first probable story she could think of.

"Right." He said, sounding unconvinced.

"Yeah, I'm totally fine." She said.

"I can see that you are. _Physically_." He exaggerated the last word.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, truly curious at his implications.

"I mean, I see you everyday. I am pretty good at reading you by now. And you look more miserable than usual. Than ever." He tried to say it light-heartedly so as not to offend her, but his comment seemed to strike a cord.

"You think I'm miserable?" She asked in quiet surprise.

Upon hearing her tone, Mac immediately felt bad, regretting his words. "I'm sorry. I didn't completely mean that. You don't always look miserable…I-." Mac tried to cover himself, stumbling over his words and failing to find the right ones to say. Charlie, thankfully, interrupted him.

"Mac stop. Tell me the truth. I want to know what you really think about my life." She said calmly and then looked up, locked eyes with him, and waited expectantly for him to give her an honest answer.

"Okay uh…I don't really know. I doubt it's noticeable to other people- ones who don't see you every day. You seem to like your work and you're clearly good at it, but you never seem exactly…satisfied. There is something in your face, like it's not exciting enough for you. And then there are moments when you should be extremely happy and you play it up like that's the case, but the smile on your face doesn't show itself in your eyes. In fact, I have never seen the twinkle in your eyes as much as I did tonight at the bar. I don't know about your past so I don't know why you're like this. I just know that people flock to you- they seem to love you. For God knows what reason. But no matter how many people- friends- surround you, you just always seem to feel alone." He finished his long explanation, his final word truly hitting home for Charlie.

She was silent as she processed Mac's outer perspective on her life. "Wow." She let out a strangled laugh that seemed to get caught in the back of her throat. "I didn't realize I was so transparent."

"Or I'm just good at reading people." He said with a self-confident shrug.

Charlie shook her head. "Nah, I doubt that." Mac laughed at her comment. She smiled at him, but quickly remembered what he had said and stared down at her hands in quiet contemplation.

"What happened?" Mac asked in genuine concern for his young friend.

"What do you mean?" She said, flashing him the fake smile that he could easily see right through.

"I've never seen you be anything, but confident with yourself. So what the hell happened tonight that is making you question your life?"

"Uh…it's the boys. They figured out who I was and we kind of got into it, you know? Some things they said just got to me I guess."

"What did they say?" He asked. Charlie just stared at him. He understood that she either couldn't or wouldn't answer him by the firm stretch of clenched muscle along her jaw-line. "Okay. You ever gonna tell me what today was all about? Me pretending to be you I mean?" He pushed.

Charlie gave him a small, quirky smile and a shrug of her shoulders. It was the best response she could give. Out of the blue, Mac noticed a spark flicker across Charlie's features as she changed the subject. "Do you think you would risk yourself and everyone you're close to if there was even the most miniscule chance that you could save the world?" Mac raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Hypothetically speaking." She added as an afterthought.

Charlie watched the surprise slowly fade from his expression as he mulled over her question.

"I honestly couldn't tell you. I've never been put in that situation so I don't think I know what I would really do unless I was." She nodded at his logical, yet unhelpful answer. He saw the disappointed look on her face and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "But I know one thing. I'm nothing like you. I mean, I don't know what you were like before I met you, but for a kid so young, especially one with no family support, it's amazing- all the things that you've done with your life. You're one of the most kick ass, selfless, and brave people I've ever met. And if anyone I know could go against all odds- even slim ones- to save the world, it'd be you. No question." Mac's statement was totally serious, full of absolute sentiment.

Charlie grinned at his words. "Wow Mac. Could you possibly pile anymore cheese onto that pep talk?" She joked, smiling even wider. He laughed and wacked her with one of the decorative pillows that was sitting on the couch.

"Yeah well it may have been cheesy, but that doesn't mean it's not true." He said.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I feel a hug coming on." She said with a smirk. He laughed again and pulled her into him for a friendly bear hug. They released each other and Mac rose to leave.

Charlie stopped him before he reached the door. "Before you go, I need to ask you for one last favor." She gave him a mischievous smile, reeling him in so he had no chance of refusing.

* * *

Back at the motel, the boys were packing up their things in relative silence. Dean packed in a flurry, shoving his clothes into the bag quickly and messily. Sam glanced at him every few minutes in mild concern at Dean's anger as he neatly folded his clean clothes and placed them into his duffel.

Sam sighed loudly, gaining his brother's unwanted attention.

"What?" Dean snapped, shoving the last piece of his clothing into his full suitcase.

"Nothing." Sam muttered.

"No, Sammy, what is it? Speak your mind for once, will you?" Sam glared at Dean, unappreciative of his comment.

"I was just wondering if we were staying the night or leaving as soon as we're done packing up." Sam thought aloud.

"I don't know about you, but I'd like to get the hell out of Dodge." Dean said and threw his bag towards the door. He went to the desk and began gathering up the books they'd been using for research.

"I think it'd be smart to try to get some rest."

"We've had enough rest. It's time we start getting down to business."

"Don't you think we should be fresh if we're going to go against the devil?" Sam bit back logically.

Dean looked up from the books, staring Sam square in the eyes. "I just want to get out of here, okay?" Dean said sternly. Sam nodded, but he seemed to be as determined as his brother.

"Can we at least grab some food before we go?" Sam pleaded.

Dean slammed one of the books down on the desk in frustration. He let out a slow breath. "Fine. I'll finish up here. You go get us some food to bring back and we can eat here before we leave." Sam nodded, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. He paused before exiting the room. "What are you waiting for?" Dean asked.

Sam turned back to face his brother. He was hesitant. "You're so gung-ho about leaving, but where the hell are we supposed to go now?" He questioned.

"We go to Bobby's." For Dean, this answer was obvious.

"Do you think that's really the safest place? I mean anyone- any_thing_ who knows us at all knows that we'd go there." Sam reasoned.

Dean shrugged his shoulders lamely. "We have no choice." He explained. "There's no where else for us to go."

* * *

Back at Charlie's house, the door swung shut behind Mac. Charlie lingered at the entrance for a moment, smiling a bit as she watched his retreating form through the window. She walked across her house and sat down in front of the desk that Sam had been investigating earlier.

She opened the top drawer, pulling out a large leather book and placing it on the desk. She hesitated, taking a deep breath, and then flipped open to the first page. The image at the center of this page caused every muscle in her body to tighten, making her feel claustrophobic in her own skin. Her eyes roamed over the group of people- arms thrown around shoulders, fingers entwined, sparkling eyes, and smiling faces. She lingered on each face, ingraining each expression into her head. She slowly flipped through each page of the scrapbook- her body loosening with each consecutive image. She finished looking through it and laid her hand against it tenderly, longing to relive those memories.

After a moment, Charlie got up from her chair and went over to the phone mounted on the far wall. She picked up the receiver and punched in the numbers that she had dialed a hundred times. Her heartbeat sped up with each ring. She wasn't sure what she preferred- getting the answering machine or the actual person.

"Hello?" A man's voice echoed across the line. Charlie inhaled deeply upon hearing the familiar vibrato of his voice.

"Hello?" He called out again when no one responded.

Charlie couldn't speak.

In the background, she made out another voice asking, "Who is it?" The sound of this woman's voice made Charlie feel like she had been sucker punched: it was unexpected and painful.

"I don't know. No one is answering." He responded to the other woman. He started to talk into the phone once more to ask if anyone was there, but Charlie hung up before he could finish his sentence.

She stayed still for a while, forehead pressed against the cool wall as she tried to regain her composure. Suddenly she tore away from the wall in a movement that would have seemed spastic to any onlooker. She bolted up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door shut with a resounding Bang!

* * *

At the motel, Sam was lazily picking at his plate of fries as Dean shoved as big a bite of his bacon cheeseburger as he could physically manage into his mouth. Sam was skimming the pages of a few open books, eating slowly in contrast with his brother who looked like he was trying to place first in an eating competition.

The firm knock on the door jostled Sam out of his research daze and halted Dean's impending food coma as they both looked suspiciously toward the sound.

With a quick glance at each other both men put down all of their food, rose slowly out of their seats, and quietly withdrew their weapons. Sam took the lead, getting to the door and cursing the motel for not having a peephole. What the hell kind of motel doesn't have a peephole?

Sam unlatched the chain and took hold of the doorknob. He looked back at Dean to make sure he was ready and twisted the knob, pulling the door open.

There, in the doorframe, stood Charlie with her hands in her pockets and a smile on her face. She raised her eyebrows in surprise at the sight of the guns clenched tightly in each of the boys' hands. She looked at them expectantly waiting to be let in, but it seemed all that the boys could do was stare at her.

Finally she decided to speak, surprising them both when she uttered a confident, "I'm in."


	7. God Send Me An Angel Oh Thanks!

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note:** Hey guys!! I hope everyone had awesome holidays and a great New Year's. I wanted to get this out yesterday to start the New Year with a bang, but unfortunately I didn't get a chance to. I want to warn you there's a little more offensive language in this chapter than there has been in the past, but I don't think it's too bad. And if you can't tell from the title we get to see a little more of Castiel for those of you who are fans of him. Yay! Anyway I hope you like this one. I'd really appreciate some feedback (a.k.a. Review!). It'd be a very nice present in spirit of the season and I'd be nice to hear what others think about Charlie's relationships with the boys. I have an idea of who I want her to pursue romantically, but it'd be interesting to hear what you guys think. Who knows? Maybe it will make me rework the story. Ok, I'm done. Enjoy!

Chapter Seven

God Send Me An Angel…Oh Thanks!

Sam and Dean stared at Charlie suspiciously as she stood in the doorway of their motel room. She smiled at them expectantly.

"You gonna let me in?" Charlie asked, eyebrows raised.

"I'm leaning towards no." Dean replied immediately. Sam glared at him and moved aside to let her in.

Charlie stepped into the room, laying her hand gently on Sam's arm in a gesture of gratitude.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked after a moment, distracted by her lingering touch.

"I changed my mind." She said with a shrug.

"Any reason for this change of heart?" Dean asked, easily slipping into interrogation mode.

"You know, I think it was your parting words. They really got to me." She answered, each word bathed in sarcasm. She didn't want them to know that there was some truth to her statement.

"Bullshit." Dean spat, annoyed with her tone.

"Can I get you a drink? Water or something?" Sam offered suddenly, earning strange looks from both Charlie and Dean.

"Uh…sure. Water's good. Thanks." She responded.

Dean opted to ignore his brother's interruption as Sam walked into the tiny kitchen area. "Cut the crap. Why are you really here?" Dean asked.

Charlie stared at him, deciding whether or not she should keep messing with him. She suddenly felt a wave of remorse as she took in his ragged appearance. His hair and clothes were in slight, but noticeable disarray. He had dark bags under bloodshot eyes and deep frown lines creased along his mouth and his forehead. The stress of the job and impending apocalypse seemed to be getting to him, aging him beyond his years. Yet Charlie also noted that this didn't make him any less attractive.

She sighed. "I had a talk with Mac. He made me rethink some things. And I changed my mind." She answered seriously.

"Mac?"

"The man who you thought was me." Dean scowled at her.

Sam rejoined them both at the center of the room, handing Charlie a large glass of water. She smiled at him and sat down at a nearby table. She was silent for a minute, periodically shifting her gaze from Sam to the glass in her hand and back again. She grinned at Sam before lifting the glass to her lips and chugging all of its contents. She wiped her mouth with her shirtsleeve and looked directly at Sam.

"So?"

"So what?" Sam asked.

"Did I pass?" Charlie continued.

Sam feigned a look of pure innocence- one that had been perfected through many years of practice.

"Dude, I think you're forgetting that I knew Bobby _really_ well and I'm familiar with all the little tricks he's got up those plaid sleeves. If you wanted me to drink holy water, all you had to do was ask."

Sam couldn't help but smile at her. "Sorry, but I had to make sure. Your decision seemed a little fast after our conversation at your house. You could have been possessed."

"I understand, but you don't have to worry about that with me. I've taken precautions when it comes to possession." She replied.

"What kind of precautions?" Dean pressed.

"Just trust me on this."

Dean laughed in disbelief. "See the unbelievable thing is that I _don't_ trust you. At all. So clarify yourself!" He demanded.

She glared at him and stood up without saying a word. She lifted up the lower part of her shirt, exposing her left hip. On her hip, burned into her skin like a cattle brand was the same symbol tattooed on each man's chest. Dean moved forward to get a look at the scarred skin, but Charlie pulled her shirt back down before he could get too close.

"Satisfied?"

"How did you do that?" Dean asked, looking at Sam for his reaction. The both seemed equally disturbed. "Why?" Dean continued, too impatient to wait for her response.

"It's none of your business. All you need to know is I have it taken care of." She snapped.

"That's good to know." Sam said awkwardly, at a loss for the proper response.

"So what's our game plan?" Charlie asked suddenly, realizing the need for a new topic.

"Whoa…not so fast." Sam said.

"What?"

"Well, I'm just wondering if you're completely serious about this. It's not a joke."

"I know that. Why do you think I said no at first?" Charlie protested.

"That's my point. You completely changed your mind in the course of a couple of hours. How can we make sure you'll follow through on your word? Because once you're in with us, you're in. That's it." Sam said.

"So what? You're like the mafia?" She joked.

"Stop fucking around!" Dean yelled, wiping the smile off Charlie's face and making her lean away from him.

"Relax. I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"Well stop!"

Sam decided it was time to take back control of the conversation. "Look we just want to make sure you don't flake on us. You can't back out. We need to be able to count on you. We _all_ could die- in fact it's likely, but we need to know you'll have our backs when things get dangerous." Sam said.

She didn't respond right away to make sure Sam was finished with his lecture. "Wow…you seriously suck at recruiting. If that's your strategy for getting people to help you, it's no wonder you need me." She joked again, but the boys just stared at her, completely unamused. "Jeez, I'm kidding. Will you two calm down?"

"We don't have the time or tolerance for _your_ jokes." Dean responded.

"Well you're gonna have to get used to my attempts at humor because that's how I work. If you're too serious while on a job, you'll drive yourself nuts in all the danger and tragedy that inevitably follows every hunter." She explained.

"I don't get you." Sam said.

"Excuse me?" Charlie asked.

"The way you're acting is like a complete 180 from how you were earlier in the night."

She shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a complicated woman." She smiled at them sweetly.

Sam didn't even know where to go from there. Charlie took the prolonged silence as a good sign. She clapped her hands together happily and sat up in her chair.

"Ok good. Now that my trial seems to have ended, I'd love to hear your game plan for preventing an apocalypse." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Dean clenched his teeth, trying to come up with a plausible response. Charlie raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"You got nothing?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Not exactly."

Charlie locked her hands behind her head and leaned back in her hands so that it was resting on its hind legs.

"Bullshit. You've got absolutely nothing." She stated.

Sam and Dean shared a guilty look like they had been caught red-handed. She shook her head and smiled, awed by their nerve of recruiting her without any means to fight.

"So what do we do now?" She rocked slightly back and forth on the unstable back legs as she waited for their answer.

Suddenly a tall man in a tan trench coat appeared between Charlie and the boys, startling her so much that she fell backwards in the chair, splaying out on the floor. She scrambled to her feet and whipped out a knife from the sheath on her ankle, preparing for a fight. Before she could make a move on the man, the boys had snapped to action. Dean stepped between the man and Charlie as Sam came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her to hold her back. Charlie protested against Sam's hold as he pulled her a few steps away from the angel.

"What the hell Sam? Let go!" She hollered.

"Charlie, relax. You don't understand. He's a friend." Sam told her.

"What?"

"He's on our side!" Dean yelled loud enough to get the message through to her. Charlie immediately calmed down, settling into Sam's arms.

"Oh." She whispered.

"This is Castiel." Sam said into her ear.

"Hello." Castiel greeted.

"Your angel?" She asked Sam.

"I belong to no one." Castiel said.

"You know what I meant."

"Yeah, he's the one we were telling you about." Sam explained. Charlie noticed the twitch of his bicep and realized he was still holding on to her, but she didn't mention it to him.

"The one who sent you guys to me?" She asked, also noticing the feel of Sam's muscles contracting around her and the complete warmth of his skin on hers.

"Yes." Castiel replied.

"Why?" She asked, leaning further into Sam's chest.

"Because you're a necessary asset."

"Wow, don't go out of your way to make me feel special." Charlie muttered sarcastically.

Up until that comment Castiel had seemed distracted. He had been constantly scanning the room, looking uneasy, but now he had fully focused on Charlie. At first he stared at her, eye to eye, and then took in the rest of her form. He narrowed his eyes and switched his gaze to Sam.

"Sam, for what reason are you hugging her?" Castiel asked with a puzzled look on his face.

Charlie could feel Sam look down like he had forgotten his arms were there. He immediately released her and moved a good distance away. Dean tracked the course of Sam's blush as it moved its way to the tips of his ears. He couldn't help, but smile at Sam's obvious embarrassment.

"Sorry." Sam mumbled as Charlie straightened her clothes and put the knife back in her ankle strap.

Once Charlie was free, she approached Castiel in a much less menacing way than before. She could feel Dean's suspicious glare and gave him a slight smile to make it clear that she had only good intentions. When she finally stopped her approach towards Castiel, her face was so close to his that he could feel her breath on his face as she examined him. She focused all her attention on the beautiful angel.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, looking at Charlie as curiously as Castiel was. Charlie didn't take her eyes off Castiel. She took in his tan skin and perfectly disheveled brown hair. He had excessively bright teeth and seemed to always wear the same expression.

"I've never met an angel before. Never thought I'd get to meet one. Especially not a hot one." She brought her hand up to Castiel's face, lightly prodding his cheek. There was a hint of a five o'clock shadow on his face; the tiny hairs tickled her fingers as she brushed them along his skin. He stared at her intently as she did this. She continued to poke his cheek until he snatched hold of her wrist and gently pulled it out of reach of his face. She looked him in the eye- an interesting shade of crystal blue. "You know, I expected someone older. Maybe glowing…with wings or something."

"Cliché. We are just workers of God. But to be fair, this isn't my true form." Castiel responded.

"Meaning?"

"That's not his body." Dean snapped.

Charlie paused. "You're possessing someone."

"I have a willing vessel." Castiel confirmed.

"So not all angels look like you?" Charlie mused. Castiel shook his head no. "That's too bad." Charlie noticed the trace of a grin at the corner of his mouth as he released her wrist and stepped away from her.

Dean finally asked the question that had been nagging at him. "If you've never met an angel, how did you know they were real?"

Charlie finally took her gaze off Castiel to look at Dean. "I just assumed. I mean do you know how much lore there is about angels? It's ridiculous: more than any other supernatural being." Sam gave Dean a triumphant smile upon hearing her echoing his similar arguments from long ago. "Besides I never rule anything out. I'd believe in leprechauns if I found enough evidence of one."

"Leprechauns?" Sam asked with a laugh.

Charlie laughed and then shrugged. "Luck of the Irish."

"You're nuts." Dean said.

"Yeah. Until you find one terrorizing a neighborhood in Skibbereen. Then I'm a genius."

"Where?"

"It's in Ireland dumb ass."

Dean opened his mouth to speak again, but Castiel got there first. "That's enough, you two!" Charlie and Dean turned to face Cas. "We don't have time for this."

"Actually it seems to me that all we have is time since we have no idea what our next move is. So unless you want to regale us with your brilliant plan right now, Dean and I can finish bickering." When she finished her sentence, she turned to face Castiel, evaluating his reaction.

"Although I don't appreciate your tone, I can understand your frustrations about being left in the dark." Castiel responded. All three hunters gave him their absolute attention in anticipation of learning his plan. "First I need to get the blade."

"Blade?" Charlie asked, but was unheard over Dean's shouted questions. "I thought you said you had it!"

"Yes Dean, it's in my possession, but I had to put it some place for safekeeping once I acquired it from Uriel. Now I have to retrieve it."

"From where?"

"That doesn't concern you. It's my problem." Castiel answered ominously. He continued to reveal his plan. "There are also a few ancient books that could be helpful in finding the proper incantations to ensure the knife's effectiveness. I need to find those as well." Charlie looked at the boys in confusion, but she seemed to be the only one not following.

"Okay, I don't really know what you're talking about, but I _do_ know that you have yet to tell us what you want _us_ to do." Charlie pointed out.

"You need to begin hunting with more specific targets in mind." Said Castiel.

"Are you always this cryptic?" Charlie asked.

"Yes." Came Sam's response from behind her.

"You need to focus on Lucifer's demons. He's been recruiting more and more demons for his army each day and he is gaining strength, fast." Castiel elaborated.

"You want us to take out his minions?" Charlie tried to clear up some of her confusion.

"No, you need to go after his higher ranking, more powerful demonic soldiers. Without these body guards it will be easier to gain access to Lucifer. _With_ these demons around we will have no chance of getting to him and this plan will be worthless."

"Do you know of any specific demons who have joined him already?" Sam asked.

"No, that's for you three to figure out."

"Great." Dean mumbled sarcastically.

"I'm not finished."

"Even better." Dean heaved a sigh.

Castiel decided to ignore Dean's disgruntled attitude. "If the knife doesn't work we'll need another plan. One that I don't have."

"You want _us_ to come up with one?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, you'll have to do the necessary research. Find anything that could possibly be useful. That's where an extra person will come in very handy." Castiel nodded at Charlie.

"That's why I'm here? Research? Oh, you've got to be shitting me." She ranted.

"It's one of the reasons. Yes. Now my advice to you is to stop complaining and get to work." He gave each of them a dark look. "All of you." As soon as his sentence was finished he was gone. Charlie had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

"He's quite a character." Charlie said as she looked around the room to make sure he was really gone.

"You could say that." Sam replied.

"So now that we know what to do, where exactly do we start?" Sam asked, looking at Dean for the answer.

"Bobby's." Dean stated simply.

"Bobby's?" Charlie gulped.

"That a problem?" Dean retorted. There was a biting edge to his voice.

"No, not at all." Charlie answered with a smile, but she could feel her body's reaction of dread: her mouth tasted like sandpaper, her throat felt dryer than the Sahara and her stomach seemed to drop to the floor as her mind responded to Dean's question with an anxious 'Yes! That could be a major problem.'


	8. Beer Drinkers & Hell Raisers

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note:** Hey guys, it's been a while! I hope you're all excited for another new episode of Supernatural tonight! I know I am. This one took me a while because I wanted to make sure I was all adjusted to my new schedule this semester before distracting myself with the story. The next chapter should not take as long to get out as this one. I've already written out the outline for it so it should be relatively quick. I hope you enjoy this one. You get to actually see Bobby for the first time in my story and just remember he is how he was at the end of the fourth season, not at all in the fifth season (I don't want to reveal why that's pretty important for those of you from other countries who might not be in the fifth season yet) but just remember it. BTW the title doesn't really have much to do with the content of the chapter I was just going through my iTunes and saw the ZZ Top song and thought it was kind of a perfect title for Supernatural. So I hope you enjoy it! I'd really like to hear some more feedback from people so review if you get the chance--about anything! Oh and if anyone knows where Bobby's house is (city, state, anything) I'd appreciate if they'd let me know. I don't remember if they ever told us and if they did I couldn't find it so if you know off the top of your head and want to let me know that'd be awesome. Thanks!

Chapter Eight

Beer Drinkers & Hell Raisers

It took about twenty minutes for the three of them to hit the road. Sam finished eating and putting all the bags in the Impala as Charlie and Dean argued about the possible driving arrangements.

"Will you _please_ just get in the backseat of the Impala and shut up?" Dean growled for what seemed like the fifth time.

"I don't see why you're so adamant that I take the same car as you. I'm going to drive myself so you should just deal with that." Charlie retorted.

"No." Dean said sternly.

"Why not?" Charlie yelled.

"Because I want to be able to keep an eye on you!"

Charlie jerked her head back, insulted. "You know what? You need to get over yourself. I can take care of myself. I don't need you two jackasses to keep an eye on me."

"I'm not worried about your safety in the least bit. For all we know you could run off. Or worse, let someone tail you."

She moved closer, getting in his face. "Not even you drive fast enough to tail me." She seethed. She decided to pause for dramatic effect before trying to brush passed him. He grabbed her arm, roughly yanking her closer to him. Her muscles tensed instinctively, but she restrained herself from activating automatic fight mode. Her glancee moved from his hand to his eyes and she lifted her eyebrows in anticipation of his words.

"First of all, I doubt that. And second of all, you aren't in charge here. You need to start listening and cooperating with me—with us." He released her arm, but didn't move away.

"Question: Do you like to argue just for arguments sake? Huh? Or maybe you just like the sound of your own voice. For whatever reason you're trying to continue this conversation, I don't really give a damn because you're wrong. I _am_ in charge. I'm in charge of myself, meaning I can drive myself wherever the hell I want to go."

She spun away from Dean, pulling her keys out of her pocket and jingling them very purposefully. She dodged Sam as he re-entered the room and smiled at him.

"I'll see ya there!" She said to him triumphantly. Dean tried to catch her before she reached her car, but she slipped away from him. She sped off before he had a chance to get another word in edgewise. Sam grabbed the final bag and watched as Charlie drove away. Dean joined Sam at the door.

"So I guess she won." Sam said, smiling in total amusement.

Dean turned to his brother, looking ready to sock him in the eye. Sam quickly jogged to the car before he could get injured and Dean followed after inhaling as much crisp, calming air as possible. He got into the driver's seat and relaxed as the purr of the engine dulled the edge of his nerves.

* * *

Charlie arrived at Bobby's first. She had driven straight through the night, pausing only for food and bathroom breaks. She parked on the perimeter of Bobby's property, out of any sight lines from his house. She curled up in her backseat and passed out, unwilling to face Bobby alone and running on no sleep.

She didn't know how long she had been asleep when she heard the rumbling of the Impala as it pulled up next to her. She rubbed her eyes in a vane effort to unblur them and tried to sit up, but her body was too cramped to move.

She heard a light tap on the window and looked up to see Sam gently rapping his knuckles against the glass. She leaned forward, but her neck was so stiff that she thought it might snap.

"It's unlocked." She croaked. She twisted slowly, groaning in relief as her back cracked in at least ten places. Sam opened the door to the backseat and poked his head inside.

"Morning sunshine." He said with a laugh. She grunted. "How long have you been here?"

She ran her hand over her hair to make sure she didn't have an insane case of bed head. "Uh…I have no idea. What time is it?"

"A little past seven." He answered.

"What the hell took you so long?"

Sam shrugged. "How'd you get here so fast?"

"Shortcut."

"Well, that would have been helpful information." He lightly scolded her.

Charlie could finally feel her body starting to limber up, but it was taking too long. "Can you do me a monumental favor?" She asked.

"Sure." Sam answered hesitantly.

"Pull me out."

"Huh?"

"My body is too stiff to get out right now. Grab my legs and pull me out." Sam followed orders, grasping her calves and sliding her to the edge of the seat. She slowly rose to sit up and Sam helped her to her feet. He was so close that she could smell the scent of his skin—a pleasant mixture of soap, leather, and some sort of coconut shampoo. She slowly stretched out all the kinks in her body as she spotted Dean leaning against the Impala.

"You ready princess?" He taunted.

"I believe I'm the one who's been waiting on you, Miss Daisy." She wanted to follow her comment by sticking her tongue out at him, but she _did_ have a small amount of self-control and dignity that deterred her.

Dean pushed off the Impala and walked to Bobby's front door. Sam walked next to his brother and Charlie trailed slowly behind them. Dean knocked loudly and continuously until Bobby came to the door.

"Stop with that racket!" Bobby yelled, directing all his attention at Dean.

"It's great to see you too." Dean responded sarcastically.

"You should be grateful that I didn't greet you with my shot gun." Bobby snarled. Dean rolled his eyes and leaned against the doorframe, allowing Bobby to see passed the boys to Charlie for the first time. Both his mood and expression made a drastic change. The anger had fled his body (well, not all of it, it is Bobby after all) and was replaced by awe. He just stared at her for a while, making both boys and Charlie equally uncomfortable by his odd behavior.

Bobby approached her slowly and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. He looked at her for a moment longer before gripping those shoulders and pulling her in for a brief, but tight hug.

"I missed you, girl." He whispered into her ear. She laughed slightly.

"Yea. I missed you too old man."

Bobby pulled away and cleared his throat. "Boys, why don't you go on in and open some beer for the four of us. I think Charlie and I need to catch up a bit." Sam and Dean didn't move, suspicious of Bobby and Charlie's interactions.

"Go!" Charlie ordered lightly.

The boys reluctantly went inside, closing the door behind them, but Charlie saw their shadows from the crack at the bottom of the door. She signaled for Bobby to wait one moment, walked up the front step, and slammed her fist as hard a possible against the door without causing any damage to it or herself. The door rattled violently and she heard a yelp come from inside. She was satisfied that the loud noise had effectively impaired the eavesdroppers' eardrums.

"This is a private conversation!" Charlie yelled. She smiled mischievously to Bobby and pulled him farther away from the house, out of hearing range.

Once they were far enough away Charlie didn't know where to begin and apparently neither did Bobby. She let out a deep breath and decided to just jump right into it.

"You knew I was alive." Charlie stated it—a fact.

Bobby shrugged noncommittally.

"I know you knew." She pressed.

"How do you know I knew?" He asked. The corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile.

"You told Sam my name. The fact that I'm supposed to be dead didn't seem to prevent you from revealing me as a _woman_ hunter. If you really thought I was dead I think it would have given you a little pause before you just assumed it was me and not someone stealing my identity."

Bobby nodded. "Alright. Yea. I knew." He admitted.

"How?" She asked. He raised one eyebrow, a clear indicator that his source was obvious.

"Son of a bitch. I can't believe him. I knew I never should have told him my plan. I'd kill him if he wasn't dead already." She ranted. Bobby became alert at her comment.

"So you _do_ know."

She hung her head sadly. "Yea, I've known for a while."

"How did you find out?"

"Deductive reasoning. He used to call me at least once, if not twice, a month. I never saw him after I retired, but after my dad he was the only one I could really talk to—about _anything_. He kept telling me how close he was to the demon. And then one month went by and no calls—then another…and another. That was like three years ago." She paused for a moment of silence. "I miss him a lot."

"Yea."

"How did it happen?" She asked. "I never had the chance to find out without blowing my cover."

"He uh…the demon got him. He made a deal. His life for Dean's."

She smiled. "Figures. Stubborn, self-sacrificing fool 'til the end. He always said he'd do anything for his boys." She waxed nostalgic.

"John was a good man."

She nodded in agreement. "Why did he tell you? About me?"

"In case something happened to him. Wanted me to be able to help if you needed it without me thinking you were some supernatural creature when you came back from the dead." He explained.

"He wanted you to look out for me." She reasoned.

"Yes and no. He never told me where you were livin'."

"You could have found me—easily." She said with an admiring smile.

"Yea, but we both knew you needed space. I'd never try to find you unless I needed to."

She looked down at her feet for a moment and when she looked back up at him he could see the faint signs of her eyes watering. He could tell she wanted to ask him something—a question buried deep within her. She blinked rapidly to deter any waterworks.

"Was-how…uh, how disappointed was he _really_ when I quit?" She asked quietly. The shame in her chest exposed itself as a deep blush that invaded her face.

"I won't lie. He was upset, but disappointed? No. He understood your reasons. I think it's safe to say he would've considered retiring after he finally got his demon the way you got yours. I think he was a little jealous that you were in the right place to quit while he was still chasing the same damn creature that started his whole mess." Bobby reasoned.

"What happened with it? Yellow-eyes still around?"

"No, the boys took him out—with a little spiritual help from John. And the Colt."

"No shit? The colt." She was immediately excited. "He found it?"

Bobby nodded. "Yea, but the boys lost it a while back." She sighed in annoyance.

"Of course they did. Some ace hunters you got there." She muttered.

"They're some of the best I've ever seen or worked with—even the best make mistakes." Bobby argued.

"Well then the standards have dropped since my day." She joked.

"Your day?" He mused.

"I'm just saying, they seem a bit sloppy." She shrugged.

"Watch it!" Bobby snapped. He had a harshness to his voice that Charlie had rarely ever heard addressed towards her. She took a small step back. "John trained them well. They're good boys. They are good at what they do and they're like family to me. So watch what you say because you have no right to come in here making comments like that when you've been sitting on your ass doing nothing for three years!"

Charlie tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. "Sorry sir." She murmured sincerely.

"Just trust them. They're good. And you could learn a thing or two from them." He stated, much calmer now.

"How can I trust them when I don't know them?"

"Trust me then." She smiled at him. "Besides you trusted John and they're his boys in every possible way." He said with a fond smile.

"I don't want them to know." She exclaimed suddenly.

"About?"

"The extent of my relationship with John. I'll tell them what _I_ want them to know. Nothing else. I don't want you to say anything." She ordered. He narrowed his eyes, but conceded, offering his hand as a deal maker. She smiled at him and shook his hand firmly.

"We should head in. The longer we stay out here the more curious they'll be."

They walked back to the house and went inside to find Sam and Dean huddled together, whispering about something. They immediately stopped talking when they saw Bobby and Charlie walk in.

"Where's my beer?" Bobby asked, ignoring the tension at his entrance. Dean tossed him a beer can.

"So…anything you want to fill us in on?" Dean asked, clearly not enjoying that he wasn't in on their conversation.

"No." Charlie said simply. "How about you?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, there's plenty I'd like to say to you." Dean said menacingly.

"Okay break it up, ya morons." Bobby intervened, placating the discussion before it could become an argument.

"Thank you." Sam said sincerely. He was getting tired of the constant bickering.

"How 'bout you all fill _me_ in on what's been happenin'. Why is Charlie here?" Bobby was addressing the boys.

Charlie listened intently as Sam and Dean explained Castiel's appearance after the raising of Hell on Earth, his mission to get Charlie, and the events that followed. She watched each brother carefully. Analyzing their relationship with Bobby and each other. Something was off. She hadn't really noticed until right then, but there was a definite undertone to the conversation—like there was a giant elephant in the room, crushing all three of them, but they refused to acknowledge it. But aside from that she also noticed the concern hidden in their voices. She saw the worry in their features and looked at the boys for the first time as actual people, not just hunters with an agenda. She wondered if she could really do this with them. Can I handle hunting and living with them? She thought nervously.

She tuned back into the conversation to realize the topic had shifted. Bobby had just finished saying he had gone through his entire library and found nothing useful on Lucifer.

"I'm waiting for a big shipment of ancient volumes that might have the answer we're lookin' for. It won't be here for a while though." He explained.

Charlie decided to pipe up. "So what do we do until then?"

"I've come across a couple hunts while I was reading up on this crap." He answered, tossing a few file folders on the table in the kitchen.

"I'm in." Dean says immediately. "I've been itching for something to kill." He glanced meaningfully at Charlie.

"I don't know. I don't think it's such a good idea. We should stay focused on Lucifer." Sam protested.

"Sammy, come on. We need to get back in the saddle."

"No, Dean!" Sam said sharply.

"Look, I know you feel guilty or whatever, but staying here and rereading Bobby's research won't do a hell of a lot of good." Dean argued.

"Guilty about what?" Charlie asked. The boys looked at her for the first time, but ignored her question.

"I still don't think it's a good idea. We can stay here and do research on my lap top or go to a library or something."

Dean realized he wasn't going to win the argument easily so he looked to Charlie for her opinion. Sam noticed and, realizing his brother's intentions, he did the same. They both stared at her, patiently waiting for her input.

"Oh no. I'm not getting in the middle of this." She waved her hands in surrender and backed away from them.

"Oh, come on, you know both stances. I want to go hunt and get the apocalypse off my mind for at least a little bit. Sam wants to stay here and obsess. What about you?" Dean urged.

"No, I'm not going to be the deciding factor because then one of you will hate me." She whined childishly.

"I already hate you." Dean replied automatically.

"Wow, not the best way to get me on your side." She complained.

"Sorry. It's habit now. It just slipped out. I didn't mean it. Now, who do you agree with?"

Charlie looked back and forth between Sam and Dean as if watching an intense tennis match. Finally she turned to Bobby for support. He shrugged.

"A hunt could get you back into the swing of things before you get into a real showdown." He said logically. "You should go."

Dean smiled, but Charlie hesitated to agree as she watched Sam physically deflate in defeat. Dean saw her indecision and his grin became calculating.

"I think Bobby had a good point." He said. Something in his tone immediately captured Charlie attention. "I mean, unless you're nervous or something. We can always leave you here while we go take care of it." He taunted.

She steeled herself and glared at him. Normally this tactic wouldn't have worked, but after her conversation with Bobby, she felt the need to prove herself.

"You know what? Fine. Let's do this. Together." Dean and Bobby showed matching smiles while Sam and Charlie glowered.

"Great!" Dean said enthusiastically. "Just one more thing." He glanced around the room until he found what he was looking for. "I drive." He ordered, snatching the keys and all the folders with the information about the hunts—the only place that had the location of each one—leaving Sam and Charlie no choice, but to follow Dean out the door. Charlie grabbed her duffle from her car and, with a quick goodbye to Bobby, piled into the back of the Impala before the three of them swiftly sped away.


	9. Safety First

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey guys, I'm so sorry. This chapter is way later than I wanted it to be. I've been super busy and it took me a while to write for some reason. You're gonna get to see the beginning of the boys and Charlie's first hunt together. Just to let you know the hunt that they're on isn't completely from my imagination. A lot of it is taken from an urban legend I've heard about. Anyway hopefully you'll like this one, it's supposed to show Charlie's humorous side a little. Please review. I really want to know what people think. By the way, there's a reference to a quote from season one, if you can find it in there. And I think I found out where Bobby lives. Somewhere in South Dakota? Anyone want to confirm that? Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter Nine

Safety First

"Is there a reason we couldn't have stayed at Bobby's at least a little longer?" Charlie poked her head through the gap between seats from her place in the back seat.

"There's no point." Dean grumbled.

"It would probably be beneficial to get a break from driving and figure out a plan."

"No, we just need to get there."

"We haven't even looked at the case yet."

"We can do it when we get there."

Charlie protested again and the petty argument grew even more heated. Dean's eyes were practically glued to the rear view mirror so that he could keep an eye on her. Her chin was almost resting on his shoulder as she breathed down his back. Sam was getting a crick in his neck from the awkward angle his head had to turn to watch her. Enough was officially enough.

"Wow," Sam said, "the sexual tension in this car is ridiculous. Why don't we pull over and get you two a motel room right now?"

Charlie and Dean immediately shut up. Dean shot Sam the most evil glare he could muster. Charlie slapped Sam upside the back of his head before settling back in her seat. Sam seemed satisfied with himself.

"What does Bobby's case file say, smart-ass?" Charlie asked Sam. She folded her arms across her chest and waited as he flipped through the contents of the folder.

Sam sighed as he started reading off the seemingly important info. "Belleville, Michigan. Over the past ten years or so there has been eighteen deaths in connection with a specific bridge.

"Eighteen's pretty high. How has this not drawn attention before?" Charlie asked.

"Police didn't see a connection—different MOs over many years, including a few apparent suicides. And historically, bridges in shady areas are ample opportunities for crime."

"Okay then, why is this peaking _our_ interest?"

"Three of the deaths have been within the last six months."

"Could be a serial killer." She offered.

"The time of death of all three murders was 12:08 am."

"A super precise serial killer?" Charlie said, this time more skeptically.

"I don't know."

"Do we know TOD for all the other murders?" She asked.

"No, I couldn't get them online."

"So there's a chance this isn't our kind of case at all?" Charlie knew this already, but she wanted someone to confirm it for her.

"That's what we're going to find out." Dean said and Charlie could feel the car speed up ever so slightly with Dean's increased urgency to solve the case.

* * *

They reached Michigan in record time so Dean decided to stop at a local diner before checking into a motel. They sat at a booth in the middle of the restaurant. Charlie slid in one side and Sam crammed in next to her as Dean sprawled across the seat with a smirk across his face. He was silently gloating about getting his side of the booth all to himself.

Charlie looked over the menu, slightly zoning out as the words blurred together and her eyelids got heavy. Her head slowly tilted forwards as her eyes drifted shut. Her head suddenly shot up and her eyes flew open as a perky voice burst her eardrums. She dropped her menu and directed her attention to the fourth person who had just entered the vicinity of their table. Leggy, brunette, and relatively beautiful—Dean was immediately captivated—all suggestive eyebrows and seductive smiles. Charlie looked at Sam and rolled her eyes. He laughed.

"Can I start you off with something to drink?" The waitress asked with a southern twang that didn't match their current location. She was mainly looking at Dean, seemingly just as taken with him as he was with her.

Dean read her nametag and his smile grew wider. "Well, Colby, I'd love some ice water, if you've got it." Colby giggled and scribbled something on her notepad.

"Of course they have water." Charlie said, furrowing her eyebrows at Dean's stupidity. Sam smiled at her remark, but pinched her leg slightly as a sign to let it go.

Dean continued his order—some kind of bacon cheeseburger—and in her exhaustion Charlie opted for the same thing in order to avoid reading the menu. Colby wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought of Charlie eating all that food in front of the two attractive men. Sam ordered a salad.

They ate quickly once they had gotten their food. Charlie seemed to get a second wind from refueling. "So what do we want to check out first?" Colby came over to clear their plates before either boy answered.

Dean decided to use the opportunity. "Colby, you know anything about a bridge off Main Street? We're trying to find out how to get there."

Colby froze. "I know exactly what you're talking about—it's not far from here—but I'd stay away if I were you." She actually looked pretty freak out by it.

"Why's that?" Sam asked, his interest officially peaked.

"A lot of weird stuff has happened on that bridge—creepy as hell." She answered; Dean gently touched her arm.

"Like what?" He asked. His touch seemed to change her mood completely. She leaned over, putting her face close to his.

"Why don't I tell you over drinks tonight?" She suggested. Dean seemed surprised at first, but then the cocky smile appeared on his face. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a business card.

"A waitress has a business card? Really?" Charlie whispered into Sam's ear. He seemed to be equally amused.

"My shift ends at six. I'll see you then?" Colby asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Sounds great." Dean agreed and practically drooled as he watched her walk back into the kitchen. He turned back to Sam and Charlie who both stared at him the question 'Seriously?' implied in their expressions. "What?" He asked, ignoring their disapproval as he paid the check.

* * *

After eating the trio found a motel nearby. Charlie took the lead, approaching the young woman behind the counter. The woman grinned politely. "Hello, how are you doing today?"

"I'm good. Thanks. Do you have any vacancies?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

Charlie was surprised at being called "ma'am", but she let it go.

"Okay, I need a room with two queen sized beds please." Charlie fished in her pockets, pulling out a credit card with one of her many aliases inscribed into it. She turned her attention back to the lady behind the counter whose nameplate said Emma. Emma was looking between Charlie and the boys, who were standing a ways away, waiting for her.

"We have more than one room available. If you wanted to be alone with your boyfriend." Emma flicked her eyes from the boys to Charlie.

Charlie narrowed her eyes. A smile spread across her face. "Oh! That's sweet thanks. Actually I'm not dating either one." Charlie leaned in and gestured for Emma to come closer like she had a secret to tell. "Truth is, they are dating each other. The short one is my brother's new boyfriend. They're very cute together."

Emma didn't say anything at first, merely raised her eyebrows. "Oh." It was drawn out as the understanding dawned on her. She looked at the boys, this time examining them as they spoke in hushed voices. "Yeah, I can see that." Charlie's grin grew two-fold and she nodded, trying to refrain from laughing.

"I know, right?" Charlie said, egging Emma on.

"Do you think they'll want their own room?" Emma asked.

"That's sweet of you, but I think they can put aside their hormones for a few nights. One room's fine."

Emma nodded and began typing away at the computer. Charlie handed her the fake credit card.

"Oh yeah…I almost forgot. Do your rooms have a couch?" Charlie asked.

"Not all of them, but I can put you in a room with one if you'd like."

"That'd be great."

Dean walked up to the pair as soon as Emma finished filling in the credit card information and was handing Charlie the room keys.

"What's the hold up ladies?" Dean said, fixing Charlie with a glare after flashing Emma a smile.

Charlie turned to him and patted him lightly on the cheek. "Relax, I'm coming princess." She pulled Dean back to Sam, sending a wink at Emma over her shoulder.

"What are you laughing about?" Sam asked as they moved their bags into the motel room.

"Don't even worry about it." Charlie answered mysteriously.

Once they got settled into the room Dean began rummaging through his bag seemingly looking for something.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked as Dean laid out a clean shirt and jeans.

"Getting ready for my date." Dean wiggled his eyebrows in excitement. Sam was instantly annoyed. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Dean we really don't have time for this crap." Sam got ready to lecture his older brother. Charlie sat back on the couch, fascinated by the dynamic between the two brothers.

"Sammy, save it. I'm doing this for the good of the case."

"Oh yeah, you're really taking one for the team." Charlie said. Dean glared at her. This only prompted a bigger smile from her.

"She knows something about the bridge." Dean reasoned.

"So that's your real motive behind this date?" Sam asked, clearly believing this was false.

"Yes, don't worry. I'll be pumping her for information the entire night." Dean smirked and then disappeared into the bathroom to shower and change. Ten minutes later he was ready and out the door. Sam and Charlie exchanged an aggravated glance as they heard Dean drive away with the Impala—their only form of transportation.

"Did he just—?" Charlie asked.

"Leave us stranded? Yup." Sam answered before she even finished her sentence.

"I so hate him right now."

"Join the club."

* * *

Charlie and Sam rested for a while before deciding to investigate a little. They called a cab and rode over to the county record's office. Conning their way in with a clever use of "lying and subterfuge", they spent the next two hours going through the case files of the eighteen bridge victims.

"Here's the last one." Charlie said. Sam walked over as she had a coughing fit from inhaling the dust of the dimly lit basement. "Steven Videll died from multiple stab wounds to the heart—he bled out and died almost instantly. Time of death: 12:08 am." Charlie recited the facts of the case file.

"There's no way this is a human. In every case dating back ten years where time of death could be established the murder occurred at 12:08 on the dot." Sam explained.

"What I don't get is the different MOs."

Sam thought for a minute and shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we'll have to figure that out."

* * *

They headed back to the motel, making the cab stop at a fast food joint on the way back. They tipped the cabbie extra and got out in the motel's parking lot. They slowly made their way to the room. The first thing they noticed was the Impala sitting in the spot directly in front of their room and when they got closer they both stared at the sock sitting on the doorknob. Sam shifted his weight from side to side and gestured towards the sock. He was clearly uncomfortable with the current situation.

"We, uh, we kind of have a system—Dean's idea—for when one of us has…company."

"Yea, I understood the gesture." Charlie responded, lifting her gaze from the sock to Sam.

"Oh." He made no intentions of moving so she pulled him away from the door to lean against the Impala and eat their dinner. Luckily it was a cool summer's night—refreshing compared to the dust laden files at the county records office.

Charlie pulled out her burger and fries. She was fiddling with a ketchup packet when she decided to break the silence between her and Sam. "So we should go check out the bridge tomorrow morning."

"I was thinking the same thing. Better to check it out during the day first. Whatever this thing is it seems to only strike just after midnight."

Charlie was nodding in agreement when the ketchup packet finally opened, but flew from her grip. She quickly caught it before the contents splattered all over the car.

"Be careful. Dean will kill you if you do anything harmful to 'his baby.'" Sam warned.

Charlie laughed. "Don't worry, this car's a classic. I'd never do anything to it."

"Really? Then why did you keep blabbering about its problems and endlessly comparing it to other muscle cars? You didn't speak so highly of it then and it was all the two of you talked about on the drive here."

"Oh that?" Charlie dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. "I was just saying that to push his buttons." She lightly—almost lovingly—laid her hand on the hood. "Don't tell Dean, but this car is the one that got me into cars in the first place." She smiled, remembering the first time she saw it.

"Why do I get the impression you're not talking about the model, but about this exact car?"

Charlie froze, mentally berating herself for slipping so early. "Because I am."

"How is that possible?"

"I've met your dad before."

"What?" Sam's voice was unnaturally high.

"A long time ago—I was just kid. My dad was helping yours with a hunt. I tagged along—waited in this car." Charlie finished her explanation, but Sam still seemed to be stuck in processing mode.

"You knew my dad?" Sam seemed to have a million questions, but he couldn't get passed that one.

"Yes, he was a good guy. Helped out my dad. I got to explore the Impala. End of story."

Something in her rushed explanation snapped Sam back to normal. "You're not telling me everything."

Charlie stared at him, but didn't acknowledge the accusation. Instead she set her food aside and got into the front seat of the car. Sam came around and got into the passenger side. "I want to check something." She opened the glove compartment and couldn't ignore the sea of unopened condoms that immediately fell out. "Damn, is your brother a boy scout or something?"

"No why?"

"With this stack he'll _always_ be prepared." She commented. Sam laughed. She turned her attention back to her original task. She reached up until she heard the click and John's secret compartment dropped open. Charlie pulled out a small stack of papers, including several pictures of John and Mary and John and his boys, _all_ of them. She handed these to Sam who stared at her in shock. She found what she was looking for—a sketch she had drawn of John. It was an uncanny replica. The paper was crinkled as though it had been looked at many times.

"I drew this that day when they were out hunting. Found the compartment in my extensive search of the car."

"How did we not see that?" Sam asked. It was a rhetorical question, but Charlie decided to answer anyways.

"You weren't looking." She shrugged. "Anyway, I hid this among his stuff—can't believe it's still here."

"This isn't even possible. This car has been put through the ringer. Dean had to rebuild the entire thing." Sam was beyond confused.

"Well apparently he kept the glove compartment." Charlie didn't want to overanalyze the coincidence. She scooped up the fallen condoms to put them back when she thought of a better idea. She got out of the car. Sam followed, still sorting through his father's things. Charlie stared at the door to the motel room. She had a glint in her eyes.

She leaned against the grill of the car, placing the mountain of condoms on the hood. "Sam come here, you can look at those later." Charlie ordered. Sam leaned next to her and placed the stack of papers beside the condoms. Charlie picked one up, twirling it between her fingers. "We're gonna play a game." With that she deftly flicked the condom at the door of the motel room. It flew towards the bottom of the door, almost sliding through the small gap between the door and the ground. It ricocheted off the door with a smack and fell to the cement.

"Ten points if you hit the numbers in the middle of the door. Twenty if you get the sock. And fifty if you make it under the door." She explained the rules as they popped into her head. Sam rolled his eyes, but picked up a condom in response. The next ten minutes or so they enjoyed the competition, getting more and more into the game with each consecutive throw. It was obvious that they were having fun by the increasing volumes of their laughter and taunting of one another.

"By my calculation, I'm winning." Sam bragged.

"Not by much." Charlie argued.

"Let's make a deal. If I win, you tell me the whole story."

"What story?"

"Whatever you're leaving out about you and my dad."

"And if I win?"

"Whatever you want." Sam raised his eyebrows, waiting for her response.

Charlie narrowed her eyes and smiled. "I'm in. Game ends when we run out of condoms." Sam nodded and Charlie lined up to her next shot. She threw the condom as the door to the room opened to reveal an angry-looking Dean. It hit him directly in the eye. Charlie's jaw dropped. She turned to Sam. "That's got to be like 100 points." He burst out laughing at her comment.

"What are you two doing?" Dean screamed. He bent to the ground and picked up the object that had just practically torn his retina and examined it. "We've been trying to ignore you for like fifteen minutes! What the _hell_ is this?" He held up the condom between two fingers.

"We were concerned for your safety." Charlie joked, a toothy smile taking over her face, as Sam doubled over with laughter.


	10. Judging The Book By Its Cover

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey guys! First off, I want to apologize. I am so sorry that this took me so long. I am aware of how much I suck. My professors have been piling on the work the past month or so and I just haven't had time to write anything besides school work. But I wanted to thank all the people who reviewed. You are all amazing! You are the reason this chapter even got out at all. You all inspired me to stay up all night a finally spit out a chapter. So thanks so much those of you who gave me comments. If it wasn't for you guys this probably would be written yet! Please keep reviewing, I get really excited when I see them and then I get guilty when I haven't written in a while to the more reviewers the faster the updates. I hope you like this one. A big part of this chapter references a season four episode so if you haven't seen it yet, then this might go way over your head. But I hope you enjoy it anyway and I'm done with school in a few weeks so hopefully I can start updating this baby faster. Review!

Chapter Ten

Judging The Book By Its Cover

Charlie stared at Dean with a cautious smile as Sam tried to calm his fits of laughter. Dean glared at her; jaw clenched and eyes hard, which only made her smile even bigger. Colby, Dean's date, watched the stand off from within the room. Dean was too busy focusing his anger on Charlie to notice Colby gathering her purse and jacket.

"I'm gonna go," Colby said and ran from the room, cheeks flaming red with embarrassment.

"No, wait!" Dean protested, finally taking his eyes off of Charlie to watch Colby book it out of there. His objection did nothing to slow her pace. Dean turned his frustration back to Charlie and Sam. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Charlie shrugged, seeming satisfied with how events had played out. She tugged at Sam's arm and pulled him into the motel room as his laughter subsided. He managed to grab their food and the pile from the glove compartment before she closed the door behind them.

"Settle down, Dean. It was a joke," Charlie said.

"Ha Ha! Very funny." He shouted.

"Aw, is somebody sexually frustrated?" Charlie teased.

Dean gave up on her, turning to Sam who was now sitting in one of the chairs surrounding the small table so he could finish his dinner. "I'd expect her to pull this shit, but after all the crap you've done lately I thought you'd give me one night." Dean said.

Sam immediately sobered up. He stopped eating and stared down at the table. There was no trace of his previous amusement left on his face. His smile turned, corners of his mouth falling to a frown and his eyes became sad. Dean's anger-induced guilt trip had served to kill the entire mood of the room.

Charlie immediately felt the need to stick up for Sam. "Dean, don't be an ass. If you're gonna be pissed at someone it should be me." She walked away from him towards one of the beds. "The game was my idea and I didn't think you could hear us." She sat down on the bed.

"Of course we could hear you! You're throwing shit at my door and then giggling about it obnoxiously loud."

"I don't giggle."

"That's what it sounded like to me." Dean responded. Charlie lay back on the bed, stretching out as far as she could. "I'd be careful if I were you. You never know what you might be laying on."

Charlie immediately leapt up, grossed out by his implication. She glared at his suspiciously. "You two didn't do anything." She accused, not wanting to give up her bed.

"You sure about that? You don't know how long we were in here before the two of you came back." Dean's anger was slowly dissipating, replaced by the amusement of messing with her mind.

"You were both fully clothed."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm gonna open the door in my birthday suit."

She bit her lip, contemplating his words. "Then I'll take the other bed." She moved towards it.

"How can you be so sure which bed we were on?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised. Sam laughed at that, knowing that Dean's mind games were getting to her.

"I don't believe any of this." Charlie protested. She jutted her hip to the side and crossed her arms. Dean moved forward, closer to her.

"Suit yourself. Just try not to think about what you might be rolling in tonight when you're trying to fall asleep." He was standing so close to her that their feet were practically touching.

She looked from the cocky grin on his face to the bed and back again. "Ugh! I hate you." She grumbled and then slammed into his shoulder as she pushed past him to the couch.

Dean laughed triumphantly and collapsed on one of the beds, savoring the look of annoyance on Charlie's face.

"Alright enough," Sam said, stepping forward to get both of their attention. "While you were here Charlie and I confirmed the connection between all of the deaths. They all died at exactly 12:08 am."

"Even the suicides?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think I may have an explanation then," Dean said.

Sam cocked his head to the side. "How?"

"I told you I'd get information out of her."

Sam rolled his eyes and Charlie tried to get as comfortable as she possibly could on the couch before Dean told his story. "What'd you find out?" Sam asked.

"There's a local ghost story around here about that bridge. According to Colby, one night about twenty years ago there was a woman who lived just off the road from the bridge. She was home alone with her baby girl when a man broke into her house and attacked her. The woman managed to get out with her baby. She was running to get help and she got as far as the bridge before the man caught up with them and beat both to death. Local legend is that the mother kills those who pass on the bridge to protect her kid," Dean finished the last sentence almost dramatically by leaning forward and lowering his voice an octave.

"So I guess we have a pretty good idea who our ghost is," Sam said.

Charlie rose from the couch and went over to one of the bags on the desk—the one with Sam's laptop in it. The boys weren't paying attention to her as she started rummaging through the bag, looking for the computer.

"What I don't get is why the murders started only ten years ago. I mean, you said the woman her baby were killed about twenty years ago, so what happened to the first ten years?"

"And what's with the time? Why 12:08?" Dean posed the next obvious question. Sam shrugged and they stared at each other as they searched their brains for answers.

Charlie tuned them out as they continued to spit stupid ideas and ask unknowable questions. She finally felt the cool metal of Sam's laptop at the bottom of the bag. She pulled it out, intending to look up the details of Dean's story, but stopped when a small book fell onto the table when she finally pulled the computer free. She picked up the book with every intention of throwing it right back into the bag, but paused when she got a good look at the cover. It was definitely not your everyday research material—no, the cover of this book was a drawing of two men, big and muscley, holding guns and staring off into the distance. It looked like the cover of some cheesy romance novel, in fact one of the men on it reminded her of that male model from the eighties—maybe it was the nineties. What was his name? Oh! Fabio. The book definitely peaked Charlie's interest. Why would Sam have a romance novel called Supernatural?

Charlie started leafing through the first couple of pages without fully paying attention to what she was reading. She flipped further into the book and her jaw slowly fell open as she realized what she was reading. 'Sam and Dean' were the main character doing this and that. A pair of brothers who hunt monsters and happen to be on a search for John, their missing father. This can't be real.

"Oh my Jesus!" She said softly, the contents of what was in her hands fully registering and transmitting from her brain to her mouth.

Sam and Dean hadn't noticed her until she spoke. Sam looked at her first and saw what she was holding. "Oh no." He groaned. Dean looked at his brother, confused by his reaction. Dean couldn't see the book—his view was blocked by Sam's bag. But he saw Charlie's face and did not like the evil twinkle in her eye or the devious smile on her lips.

Charlie was slowly getting more engrossed in the story, eating up every word like it was the last cookie in the jar. Dean got up from the bed; curious as to what was making her so giddy. His eyes widened when he saw the book—the first in the Supernatural series. He immediately shot an accusing glance at Sam as if asking: why the hell do you have that here? Sam just shook his head, at a loss for how she got her hands on it.

"Put it away," Dean ordered, taking a menacing step closer to her.

She looked up, noticing for the first time that she was being addressed. She laughed, unable to wipe the grin off of her face. "No."

"Stop reading now!" Dean's voice took on a gruff, gravelly tone like he was trying to be tough and intimidating. He took another cautious step forward.

"Are you kidding? No way. This baby's a gold mine." Charlie exclaimed, holding up the book. "But if the person who drew this cover thinks you have even half the muscles as this Fabio character, the artist is sadly mistaken," she teased, but apparently that wasn't the right thing to say because Dean seemed to snap. He launched at her, knocking over a chair in the process. She danced out of the way and ran to the other side of the room. Sam decided not to get involved. He moved against the wall, trying his best to get out of the way. He didn't want to get hit in the crossfire. Dean whirled around to face Charlie. She was directly across the room from him, waving the book in the air—taunting him with the embarrassing bait. Dean bounded across the small room, jumping over the beds in the process and leapt at her. She tried to scramble out of the way, but cursed the small, enclosed space when he grabbed her arm and pulled her down to the floor. He pinned her to the ground—his full weight on top of her—and reached to yank the book from her grip, but she managed to maneuver the book so that it was under her back.

"Seriously, just give me the book." Dean demanded, trying to grope under her body for it.

She raised her eyebrows. "Any further down with those hands and you better buy me dinner first."

"Give me the book and I'll stop." His face was very close to hers—their noses almost touching—and she tried to lean away but her head just smacked against the rug.

"Why do you have this?" Charlie asked, instead of complying with his demands. He didn't answer. "Who wrote it?" Again, Dean just stared at her, waiting for her to surrender the book.

"It's a gospel…about us." Sam answered, finally opting to get involved in the tussle. Dean shot Sam a look.

"Shut up Sam!"

"It was written by a prophet."

"Sam!"

"What's the big deal, Dean? There's no reason she shouldn't know. Especially if she's gonna help us stop the apocalypse—she'll be _in_ them."

"Seriously?" Charlie asked from under Dean. She seemed enthused about being a character in the series.

"Dean, get off of her. What are you—twelve?" Sam said and then proceeded to grab Dean by the back of his shirt and throw him off of Charlie. Sam offered her a hand and pulled her back to her feet.

"Thanks." She said with a smile.

Sam returned it easily, but held out a hand for the book. Her smile dropped and her shoulders sagged. She handed him the book reluctantly. Dean smirked at her and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"You both are such buzz kills." Charlie exclaimed and grabbed Sam's laptop before making herself comfortable on the couch.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"Looking up some details about our spirit." Charlie answered, but fixed him with a look like it's none of your business. "And then I'm going to bed. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, of course not. Enjoy the couch." Dean shot at her and then disappeared into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Charlie wished the lasers shooting from her eyes were real and that her stare could actually injure him at the moment. Unfortunately for her, that wasn't the case.

"If you want a bed, it's yours." Sam offered gallantly. She shook her head. "Look, I know my brother better than anybody. He was lying. The beds are safe to sleep on—both of them."

Charlie smiled warmly at him. "I'll take the couch for now. It's pretty comfy. It'll be leverage for next time at a grosser motel and it's Dean's turn to sleep on the couch. Or maybe the floor." She said, enjoying the image of Dean lying stiffly and uncomfortably on cold, bug-ridden tiles.

"Very nice strategy." Sam nodded his head in approval.

"I know."

"All right. I'm gonna hit the hay. Night Charlie."

"Night Sam." There was a strange moment when Sam leaned down as if he was about to kiss her on the cheek, but changed his mind at the last minute. He went into the bathroom with Dean to brush his teeth. A few minutes later both boys were in their designated beds in preparation for an early morning ahead of them.

Charlie had powered up the computer, searching the internet for any information about Dean's spirit theory. She couldn't find anything useful—nothing Dean hadn't already told her.

Before shutting down the computer and calling it a night, Charlie looked up to make sure both brothers were asleep. She typed in the word Supernatural into a book search engine and waited for the results. She grinned, the light from the computer casting an eerie glow on her face. There they were—every book in the series—listed on that website, waiting to be read and mocked. She highlighted the entire series and clicked the checkout box. It only took her a minute to fill in the false credit card information and the shipping address to Bobby's house. When she was done she closed the computer and fell into an easy sleep with a big smile on her face. Five to nine business days—she couldn't wait.


	11. Happy Hunting!

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey guys. Once more, I'm terrible. This took way longer than I wanted it to. SORRY! I have recently discovered that I am way busier in the summer than I am during school and I just haven't had time to write. But I made time today and stayed up like all night to finish it and it's longer than most so I hope it was worth the wait. Thanks to all my reviewers. You guys are amazing, even though this wasn't fast to come out it would probably be even slower without you. Thanks so much for reading please keep doing so and then let me know what you think. Suggestions? Enjoy and again so sorry.

Chapter Eleven

Happy Hunting!

Charlie felt like her eyelids had been glued shut when she woke up the next morning with an overwhelming yawn. She started to roll over, relishing every crack of her aching back and almost toppled to the floor before remembering that she was on the lumpy couch instead of the comfy bed. She groaned loudly and pried her eyes open to see if she had an audience. The room was empty.

Charlie heaved herself to her feet and stretched the kinks out of her tight muscles. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and gazed lazily around the room. Everything seemed to be in the same order as last night except that both beds were empty and the keys to the Impala were missing. The bathroom door was shut and she could hear the shower water splashing against the tile. Every few minutes the sound of the water would be drowned out by the off pitch wailing of Dean singing "Welcome to the Jungle." When he reached a particularly high note, Charlie figured she had solved the mystery of what had woken her up. She sighed and took her time pulling out clothes for the day ahead. She glared at the bathroom door with her toothbrush clutched in her hand. Ten minutes later and Dean still showed no signs of finishing up. Charlie scoffed to herself. She'd had enough. She dug through her duffle bag until her hand touched a cool piece of metal at the bottom. Jackpot! She freed the bobby pin from the bag and got to work on the bathroom lock. Within a minute Charlie heard a familiar click and pushed the door open. The volume of the slapping water and Dean's voice increased ten fold and Charlie sighed with relief to see the shower curtain was pulled all the way across, keeping Dean hidden from view. As curious as she was about him, she wasn't sure she could handle replaying the image of Dean in the shower every time she saw him in the future.

She padded into the room as quietly as possible and started brushing her teeth. When she turned on the faucet she immediately realized that she made a mistake. Dean's song came to a halt and he whipped part of the curtain aside.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean shouted. He was clearly surprised to see her there, but Charlie had her back to him and could only see the vague outline of his body through the steam-clogged mirror. "Get out!" He ordered.

Charlie couldn't help, but smile at the sound of exasperation in his voice. "No. You're taking a marathon shower and the toothpaste is in here." She shrugged like it was no big thing, but she could feel his eyes on her back and his stare made her want to squirm.

"Leave!" He demanded again.

"Uh…no. I'm not done."

"Seriously, this isn't cute. How would you feel if someone busted in on mid-shower?"

"Wow, I didn't think you would be such a girl about this," Charlie responded through a mouthful of toothpaste. She could practically hear Dean's teeth clack together as his mouth closed in abrupt surprise. She decided to take advantage of his discomfort. Rinsing out her mouth with water, she finished up with her oral hygiene and turned to face Dean. The sight of him hit her harder than she thought it would, but she hid it well. She couldn't control the immediate increase of her heart rate or the tightening of her stomach muscles at the sight of the water droplets that clung to the tips of his hair and then slid down his temple, across his hard jaw line, over his pulsing neck, and down the contours of his well toned chest muscles until it disappeared behind the curtain that hid his lower body. The heat of the shower suddenly seemed overwhelming, but she refused to clue him in; she kept her cheeks from flushing and her gaze from lingering on his torso. Instead she stared at his obscenely attractive face. Much better. She took a step closer to him, a teasing smile spread across her lips. "I mean, I never thought Dean Winchester would be one to complain about having a girl with him while he was showering."

Dean's eyes widened at first, clearly surprised by her shift in attitude, but then he smirked. "Well if you want to come join me like you seem to be implying then this would be a different situation altogether." His voice had gone deeper and he leaned towards her so that water from his body was dripping on her feet. The shower curtain shifted slightly—enough so that any further down and his lower abdomen would be exposed. Dean raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to respond.

Charlie tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry and she knew that he saw her frazzled. That for a moment of total insanity she had actually considered his offer. Shocked by her own thoughts, she stumbled backwards slightly and shook her head. She cleared her throat and tried to recover. "I'm not sure you could handle that."

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

Charlie turned away from his scrutinizing gaze. "Where's Sam anyways?" She asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"Getting coffee and food," Dean answered. And suddenly Charlie felt a stream of hot water land on her head, soaking her hair and clothes. She spun to face a grinning Dean who was reinserting the portable showerhead. He grabbed his towel with one hand while turning off the shower with the other. Charlie wanted to kill him, but didn't trust herself if she actually had to touch him.

"Payback," he said as he wrapped his towel low around his waist.

"You're such a baby." Charlie spat, staring down at her now drenched T-shirt. She wasn't going to let him win this one. She had seen the way he grinned when he first saw her reaction to him in the shower. Well, two could play at that game. She quickly peeled off the wet shirt, leaving her in a simple black bra. "Thanks a lot," she said, grabbing an extra towel and drying her chest off.

Dean didn't bother to hide his reaction to Charlie: his eyes went directly to her chest and then followed the trail of the towel back up to her face. He cleared his throat and brushed by her to escape the bathroom. Bare skin brushed bare skin as they passed. They were both highly aware of the other's presence.

As Dean made his way out of the bathroom, Sam entered the hotel room, coffees in hand.

"Hey, where's Charlie?" Sam asked, looking pointedly at the vacant couch.

Before Dean could answer, Charlie emerged from the bathroom, toweling off her hair. Sam's eyebrows immediately shot up and his eyes widened. He had the decency not to stare openly at Charlie's half naked torso the way Dean had, but he did stare back and forth between the two of them.

"Okay, I feel like I just walked into a parallel universe because I couldn't have been gone _that_ long." Sam said, looking meaningfully between Charlie and Dean.

"Ew, no." Charlie answered with a quick look in Dean's direction. Time to change the subject. "One of those coffees for me?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam said, handing it to her. She smiled, took a big swig and set it down so that she could pull on a clean shirt. "Anyway, so I dropped by the county records office this morning and I think I found our ghost. Her named was Victoria Walker and hers is the only death that matches the one from the story. And get this, the coroner estimated the time of death to be soon after midnight,"

"Well that clears up the whole 12:08 mystery." Charlie responded.

"Problem is that both mother and daughter were cremated."

"Of course, nothing can ever be easy for us." Dean said from where he was changing in the bathroom.

"Good news is that she has a sister who lives in town. I thought we could swing by and talk to her."

"Sounds good to me," Charlie answered, taking a huge bite of her bagel.

"And before I left I got to talking with the receptionist a little—."

"Was she hot?" Dean called out. Charlie rolled her eyes and nodded for Sam to continue.

"Anyway, she told me that the bridge had just recently been repaired and reopened after about a decade," Sam explained.

"Hence the sudden reappearance of the murders," Charlie said with a nod.

"Exactly."

Charlie stared at Sam. She was impressed. "Well, weren't you busy this morning."

"Apparently I wasn't the only one." Sam smirked at her. They were sitting across from each other at the table, eating breakfast and waiting on Dean.

"Okay stop. Don't let your mind wander any farther than that or I'll slap you." Charlie said. Sam just laughed. "I know what you're implying, but nothing happened. You just walked in at a bad time."

"Uh huh. Sure," he responded sarcastically.

She glared at him, ripped off a piece of her bagel, and chucked it at him. Before the battle could escalate, Dean finally came out of the bathroom, fully groomed.

"What are you two waiting for? Let's go!" He instructed, strutting out the front door and leaving Charlie and Sam with no choice, but to follow.

An hour later Victoria Walker's younger sister was showing Charlie and the boys up to her attic where she stored some of her sister's possessions.

"There should be some boxes around here somewhere with old pictures and such that you can use for your article," Mrs. Polluck, Victoria's sister, explained.

Charlie looked around the dimly lit room that was scattered with cardboard boxes and felt the urge to groan. She turned back to their host. "I just want to thank you so much once again. This information will be so helpful in recounting the gruesome history of the bridge. I'm sorry to be reminding you of all this," she added, softly touching the older woman's hand. She really was sorry; if anyone knew the need to hide from the past it was Charlie.

"Oh, don't apologize. No matter how much I hate to think of what happened to her, it's nice to talk about her—to think about her. I don't do that enough." Mrs. Polluck answered. Her eyes were glazed over as if she was in another world. "Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Just make sure to say goodbye when you're through." She snapped out of her trance and headed back downstairs.

With a short pause and a shared look the three of them got started kicking up dust and riffling through old boxes.

After what seemed like hours of digging through junk, Charlie thought she finally found something useful. She quickly called Sam and Dean to join her on her side of the room.

"You called us over here to show us baby pictures?" Dean asked skeptically. He scoffed and started to walk away, but she tugged him back by his belt hoop.

"Just hold up. This is a baby book and a lot of the time there will be other keepsakes from the baby's childhood like—Ah! I knew it—a lock of hair." Charlie explained, pointing to the hair of Victoria Walker's child. "I believe I just found our remains." A smug grin spread across her lips.

"Too bad it's the mother going psycho killer and not some jacked up kid." Dean argued.

Charlie paused for a moment, her smile twisting into a thin line.

"Man's got a point," Sam conceded.

"Well, girl's got a better one," Charlie bit back, her eyes lighting up with an idea. "I'm thinking, what if the mom is clinging to the baby's spirit—that they're connected somehow. She can't protect the kid if she's moved on so she became a part of her." Charlie was nodding her head as she spoke like she was trying to convince _herself_ as much as the boys.

After a long pause used to absorb the theory, Dean shook his head. "Nah, I mean I've never heard of anything like that."

"Aw, come on! It's the best we got. We've been searching forever and this is the only semblance of remains we've found. We might as well give it a shot. Even if my theory is complete shit and there is some other DNA out there that we probably would never find, chances are that if the kid's gone the mom will be able to split too. No use for her to stick around then."

"Okay, so say we burn the hair—how do we know your insane theories have worked? We can't just sit around here and wait for weeks to make sure there's no more deaths," Dean reasoned.

Charlie looked at Sam then, noting his quiet. She could see in his face that he thought her idea had merit, but that he knew Dean had a point. So she plastered a big smile on her face and shrugged like her next suggestion was no big thing.

"Well, I'll just have to go down to the bridge and confirm it for myself then, won't I?" Charlie said. She stood up, tucked the baby book under her arm, and proceeded to walk out of the attic as an effective end of the conversation.

Hours later Charlie sat on the stone ledge of the bridge, watching Dean pace back and forth and mumble something to himself.

"Will you please stop? You're giving me a crick in the neck." Charlie finally asked, rubbing the back of her neck for added effect.

"Good," Dean sneered, but stopped walking all the same.

"I still don't see why you're so cranky. You didn't have to come."

In the dark, she couldn't make out Dean's expression, but from his tense silhouette she could see that he was mad. "According to 'Saint Sam' we shouldn't let you do this alone. You needed back up while one of us stayed behind in a place where we could burn the hair without any problems."

"Well duh, but how come _you're_ here and not Sam?" She asked, staring up at the stars that dotted the black sky.

"Rock, paper, scissors." Then he seemed to mumble something to himself that Charlie translated as 'Always with the damn scissors.'

Dean started pacing again. His rubber soles beat against the tar with a soft thud in a steady drumming that became almost hypnotic in the still night. Finally Charlie couldn't take anymore. If she didn't stop him he would put her to sleep. She hoisted herself up and grabbed his arm. He instantly stilled.

"Look I get it. I piss you off. I'm the last person you want to be out here with. Fine. But I need you to chill out. You're making me anxious when I need to be alert," Charlie said.

"You're not the _last_ person," he offered quietly.

"Huh?"

"I can think of worst people to be out here with," he answered, his eyes glued to the spot where her hand touched his arm. She pulled it away.

"Like who?" She asked, but was smiling.

"Well, our ghost for one," Dean answered, making Charlie laugh.

"So we got about ten minutes until the scheduled attempt on our lives. How about we call a truce tonight?" She held out a hand for him to shake.

He took it. "Just for tonight," he teased and shook her hand firmly. Neither of them let go. Like they couldn't until suddenly Dean was propelled backwards, rocketing through the air like a torpedo and landed on the tar with a loud thunk. Charlie was so surprised that she almost froze. They were supposed to have ten more minutes! But here she was, the late Victoria Walker in the flesh—so to speak. She approached Dean like a predator on the prowl. Jerky movements sent her dark hair flying and her battered limbs seemed to shake, except for the one, firm arm that was clutching a young, screaming child. The woman looked crazed.

Dean was slow to get up, but he was moving which Charlie took as a good sign. Charlie sprinted to the side of the bridge where she had been sitting just minutes before. She grabbed the salt loaded shotgun, lined up the shot, and fired a round right through Victoria's forehead. The woman disappeared just as she was midair to attack Dean.

"You okay?" Charlie called as she dug in her pocket for her phone.

"Yeah," Dean answered, swiping off blood from a cut on his cheek.

Charlie quickly found Sam's number and was about to press send when both the phone and the shotgun were knocked from her grip. Charlie's eyes widened as Victoria came into view. Victoria's eyes seemed almost red with fury and Charlie could do nothing to stop her ice cold, rock hard fingers from curling around Charlie's neck. Next thing she knew, Charlie's feet were off the ground, lifted by the neck until Victoria slammed Charlie's body to the ground. Charlie choked out a gasp of pain with the sound of the sharp crack. She sputtered and flailed trying to get any ounce of oxygen she could manage without letting Victoria snap her neck. Charlie's vision started to blur as she slowly started losing consciousness. She heard a distant pop and as suddenly as it had been taken away she could breathe again. She stared up at Dean gratefully as he reloaded the shotgun he had just fired at Victoria. Charlie recovered quicker than she thought possible with an adrenaline induced burst of energy. She crawled over to her phone and clicked send. Sam picked up on the first ring.

"Burn it now!" Charlie croaked into the phone as Victoria reappeared to go after the shotgun-wielding Dean. Apparently she didn't care for being shot at.

Sam didn't bother to respond, but Charlie knew he had listened. As Victoria launched herself at Dean, her body exploded, shimmering orange before landing as a pile of ash.

"You guys okay?" Sam shouted from the phone as Charlie and Dean stared at each other.

"I can't believe that actually worked," Charlie finally said aloud.

"So you guys are both okay?"

"Yeah," she said and hung up.

Dean walked over and helped her to her feet.

"She was early," was all he said.

"Guess she needed time to subdue us and then kill us at the precise time."

They both remained quiet as they gathered up their gear and began to trek the half mile back to the car.

Charlie gently touched her still tender throat. She was going to have a nice bruise there for a while.

"Hey, thanks for uh…not letting that chick choke me to death," Charlie said, swallowing her pride with a gulp.

"We're even," Dean replied.

"You could have gotten rid of me for good though," she joked.

"Eh, not worth it. I'd never hear the end of it from Sam," he teased, but she thought she heard something in his voice—affection?—as they headed back to the car, chatting quietly and for once, without argument.


	12. The Afterthought

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey people. So here we are at Chapter 12. I'm happy to say I seem to have more readers than ever and sad/disappointed that despite those number I didn't get a single review for the last chapter. What's up with that? Did it suck or are we just getting lazy? It'd be nice to know. Anyway considering that fact, I'm surprised I got this chapter up as soon as I did because I usually don't feel as motivated to write when I get no feedback- just for future reference this is a one time thing. I want to know what you guys think of what's going on because right now I'm at a crossroads and the story can go two ways depending on if you want a longer story or a shorter one (the ending will all be the same it just depends on how to get there) let me know what you think. Should I keep it going for a while or end it sooner when it's good rather than later. Anyway this is a big chapter with a big ending so I want you to be able to read on. And as for the book, I went online and searched spell book names and this is what came up (besides Grimoire which I've heard on a lot of stuff) so I went with it and know nothing about it. I'm not clever enough to come up with a crazy spell book name. AND THERE IS SUPPOSED TO BE A PAGE BREAK BEFORE "Dean stared across the ballroom..." BUT THE WEBSITE WOULDN'T LET ME DO IT. If you're confused that's why. Anyway enjoy the chapter and PLEASE review. It makes me feel better about myself and then I write faster so it's a win-win situation. Thanks guys and read on!

Chapter Twelve

The Afterthought

Charlie sucked in a sharp breath as drops of her blood splattered onto the oak table. She cursed under her breath and put her bleeding finger in her mouth to clean the wound.

"Freaking paper cut!" She muttered, shoving the offending book away and closing her eyes in exasperation. Two weeks of doing nothing but research was quickly catching up to her. Bobby's house was starting to feel claustrophobic between its four occupants—two of whom rarely got along with one another. The only thing that had been keeping Charlie from getting an intense case of cabin fever was a few breaks from the work when she was able to steal away to speed read through her newly acquired books of the Supernatural series. If she was going to do research it might as well be useful and entertaining—at least that was her excuse for her vested interest in the books on the boys. She only had a book and a half left to read before she completed the entire series.

With a quick flick of her wrist she snapped the cover of the injury-inducing book closed. "Bobby, I've been through every book from your newest shipment. There's nothing on killing Lucifer!" Charlie said, clearly frustrated. "I quit," she announced, standing from the table and glaring at the piles of useless information.

"How typical of you." Dean sneered.

She turned her glare from the books to his face. In one swift movement she grabbed the book she had just set down and hurled it at his head. Dean ducked away from the full impact of her impromptu weapon, letting the book merely graze his cheek.

Dean jumped up from his seat, needing to level the playing field. Sam stared back and forth between the two of them, leaning forward in his chair as if ready to spring into action and pull Charlie and Dean apart. But Dean's face seemed to change suddenly—tight anger melting into calm—and he relaxed. "Well, aren't we touchy?" Dean ribbed sarcastically and leaned against the far wall.

Charlie loosened her predatory stance when Dean backed down, but she was still on edge. She was trying to think of a response that wouldn't make her sound like a three year old throwing a tantrum when Bobby spoke up. "Hey morons! Cut the crap." He had been sitting quietly in the corner watching the entire exchange when he felt the need to take control.

All three young hunters turned to look at him in surprise—as if they had forgotten he was still in the room. Dean recovered the fastest. "Tell that to _her_—she's the one having a fit," he said, taking a second to flick his eyes to Charlie before sliding his gaze over the rest of the dim room.

"True," Bobby agreed and Charlie slumped her shoulders in annoyance, "but she's also right. These books are crap."

Charlie's irritation immediately flipped to vindication as she taunted Dean with a childish "Ha!" Bobby shot her a look that clearly said he thought she was an 'idjit'.

Sam quietly closed the book he had been reviewing for the third time. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it on its back legs. He squinted his eyes and blinked a few times. He was secretly relieved for the break from the letters that had begun meshing and twisting together on the page like the beads in a kaleidoscope. Exhaustion had slowly seeped into his brain over the past couple of weeks and he felt like his normally sharp thought process was turning to mush. "So we're back to square one," Sam said, "which is nowhere."

"Thanks for the recap Negative Nancy." Charlie said sarcastically, but she gave him a warm smile.

"We might not be all the way back at one." Bobby responded to Sam, ignoring Charlie altogether. He suddenly rose from his chair. There was a gleam in his eyes—a sort of light and liveliness—that no one had seen from him since he first saw Charlie. He was excited. For the first time, he had an idea and he was excited. "There's this book—very old, ancient occult magic. Supposedly one of the oldest known to man with some of the world's most powerful spells. It's called the Necronomicon." Bobby stopped for a moment, lost in his own thoughts.

"How have I never heard of this book? I mean if it's so powerful, why are you only bringing it up right now?" Dean asked, not understanding Bobby's abrupt enthusiasm.

"Well because it was a legend—a myth told among hunters for years. It's not supposed to be real." Bobby stopped and let out a small laugh. "It was just a bedtime story."

"Then what's got you so excited now?" Sam asked. "If it's just a bedtime story then we are still in the same place now, aren't we?"

"Sam, get your head out of your ass, will ya? There's a time when the Colt was _just_ a bedtime story too," Bobby snapped.

This seemed to get Sam's attention. He leaned forward, letting the front legs of his chair slam to the floor with a loud clack. "So you think it's real?" He asked.

"And I think I have a lead on where it might be. Or who it might be with at least." Bobby said. "Word is it was passed down through a real wealthy family. They got it centuries ago—which would be why there is so much mystery surroundin' the damn thing. Family name: Bishop. The guy we're looking for is some sort of high profile CEO. He's supposed to live somewhere in Georgia."

"Why is this just coming up now?" Charlie asked the pertinent question once more.

"I told you I thought that it was a joke for years. I just didn't think of it."

"Then how do you know who has this Necron…whatever it's called?"

"Well, I had a source, but not the most reliable one in the world. That's the other reason I hesitated to bring it up."

"Source? Who's your source?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes. He had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer.

Bobby sighed. "Bela," he answered.

"Bela?" Dean laughed though he found the situation as anything but funny. "That lying, self-absorbed bitch? You _actually_ think you can trust her intel?"

"It's possible. She wanted my help on the job to steal the book, but I didn't believe her—she told me some info on the family to reel me in, but I said no and that was that. But if she was right, then this could be exactly what we're looking for." Bobby explained.

"How do you know that she didn't steal it already? That she didn't sell it already?" Charlie asked.

"Because if she had gotten ahold of it she would still be alive. That book would have gotten her out of her deal easy." Bobby said. Charlie was listening intently to every word Bobby said, oblivious to the curious glances she was receiving from Sam. He couldn't help, but wonder how she knew Bela—why hadn't she asked about the thief?—and why she wasn't surprised by any of the information she was supposedly hearing about Bela for the first time ever. Bobby nodded to Sam and Dean and continued speaking, "It would have been more important to them than either of your heads on a platter."

"But basically you're still going off a hunch here?" Dean said.

Bobby turned to face Dean. His excitement had turned into an intense irritation. "Do you _want_ to be back at the start—to have nothin' to go on? Or do you want to shut the hell up and stop beatin' down our only idea?" Bobby snapped. Dean jerked his head back like he had been punched in the eye. He slowly sat down and sealed his lips together. "Hunch or not—Necronomicon or not—Bishop is supposed to have an occult library that rivals mine. We might find _somethin'_ useful."

There was a silence throughout the room as they mulled this over. Finally Sam spoke up, "So how do we get these books then?"

Charlie laughed like the question was the most ridiculous one she'd ever heard, which was far from true. "How do you think?" She took the time to look each man in the eye before continuing—savoring the drama of the moment. "We steal them of course."

Dean stared across the gigantic ballroom, watching the entrance as closely as he could without blowing his cover. An endless cycle of couples filtered into the room. They all looked the same: women with shades of hair that came straight out of a bottle, dresses that were too tight, jewelry that was just too much, and who were all hanging on the arms of slightly overweight, middle aged men in bad suits with too much money to spare. At first Dean had been happy to stand by and flirt with what he thought would be hot, rich women, but after the first ten minutes he couldn't tell who he had or hadn't talked to—at least of the ones that _would_ talk to him at all. The rest of the guests didn't seem to think he was good enough to breathe their air let alone serve their drinks.

"Barkeep!" An older man hollered from the other end of the bar. Dean reluctantly walked over to the man. "Bourbon." The man ordered and then turned away to lavish on who Dean could only guess was the man's trophy wife or some high-class hooker.

"Sure thing," Dean responded politely while secretly sticking his tongue out at the back of the old man's head. He quickly made the drink and set it in front of the man who took it without a word of thanks and walked away. Dean sighed and turned back towards the main doors to see that a new couple had entered—one that looked very familiar.

The man sported a huge suit to contain his gargantuan frame. His shaggy hair was gelled back, but it was still clear that he needed a haircut. He had his hand on the small of his date's back. His date—who Dean could hardly believe was wearing heels that high, but had to admit that they flattered her tan legs way more than her grease stained jeans usually did. Dean couldn't help but notice the way the bottom of her dress swayed whenever she moved—it seemed to shimmer. Several layers of the silky blue fabric wrapped tightly around her flat stomach then crawled up to hug the curves of her chest and came together around her slender neck. Her hair slid around her face in waves that crashed on her shoulders and showed off its natural shades of brown. Finally Dean took in her flawlessly made up face to find her staring at him with one eyebrow raised. Dean let out a long breath and realized he had forgotten to exhale as the couple handed over an invitation addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Samuel and Charlie Heart.

Dean still didn't know how Charlie managed the invitation. All she'd say when anyone asked her was that she's "got skills". They had to be pretty sweet skills to score even a fake invitation to the Bishop's big bash.

When he realized she had caught him watching he immediately turned away and focused on serving the party guests, glancing up every now and then to watch Charlie and Sam mingle with the crowd.

During a lull in customers, Dean bent beneath the bar to restock the shelves with whatever alcohol he was running low on. He heard an impatient rap of knuckles against the marble countertop and then a sexy voice request a scotch neat. He immediately stopped his task to greet who he was sure was going to be a gorgeous woman only to come face to face with a smirking Charlie. "Oh," he groaned in disappointment.

"Well don't you look cute in your little bow tie," she joked, flicking the knot with her finger.

"Shut up." He grumbled, trying not to let any of the other guests hear him.

"A little over the top, huh?" She commented, waving her hand in a sweeping gesture across the room. She was right; the entire room was decorated in white from the floor tile to the white lace drapes flowing across giant windows to the bright, twinkling lights spidering across the ceiling from the crystal chandelier. "I mean really, we're in a recession."

"Says the girl in the expensive dress."

"You don't like it?" She asked, swishing the skirt. She noticed the way he looked her up and down slowly, but he didn't respond. "Besides I wouldn't know the price. I didn't exactly pay for it." She shrugged when he raised his eyebrows in disapproval. "I'll give it back eventually."

"Whatever. Where's Sam?" Dean asked.

"Casing the place. Trying to find our best point of entry to the library." She said as she gladly took the scotch Dean offered her. "You got anything useful from over here?"

"No, I don't exactly get the grand view of the mansion from the limited access I have of the bar area," he told her. His voice was full of a disdain that could have been directed at either Charlie or the situation. He moved on before she got the chance to ask. "What makes you so certain that the book is in the library and not in the guy's office?"

"Dean, we've been through this. The building designs for the house show a small room just off the library." She began tracing a route on the counter with her finger as if she was sketching out the design. Dean was captivated as her hand swirled across the marble, long silver nails scratching the surface. "This room was not showcased on the architects website unlike every other room in the mansion. A room that doesn't exist is pretty much the perfect hiding place for a book that doesn't exist. Don't ya think?" she said.

"How did you even get those designs?"

"Same way I got you this job. I happen to have a lot of contacts that owe me a lot of favors—it comes with saving their lives. One of my people happens to be a big contractor who has a lot of friends and a lot of access."

"Ya know I never thought that you'd be the perfect person to plan a heist. Let alone actually pull one off, but I've got to say I'm impressed," Dean said, nodding his head as if he was agreeing with himself.

"Wait. Hold the phone—did you just compliment me? Were those actual words of praise I heard? I think my brain just exploded." Charlie joked.

"Wow, you're hilarious," Dean deadpanned.

Charlie took a long sip of her scotch in an attempt to hide a cheeky smile. She turned away from Dean and the bar to search the room. She saw that the door to the hallway that eventually lead to the library was unguarded—as she knew it would be. In the rest of her scan she could see Sam looming above the rest of the crowd. He was staring at her, eyes wide in a plea to save him from a group of three women who had him cornered. Charlie laughed and shrugged sympathetically like there was nothing she could do for him. She turned back to Dean.

"You stacked the empty liquor boxes outside those doors right?" Charlie asked Dean as quietly as she could while discretely nodding to the hallway entrance she was just scoping out.

"All the crap that you have to do from here on out and you're worried about the one and easiest task that you gave me? Seriously?"

"It's not the stealing of the books that's a problem for me. It's making sure we can get them out of here without being seen. So did you do it or not?" She asked again, quirking her head to the side in what was meant to be an intimidating stare.

"Yes, ma'am I did," he responded, getting within inches of her face to prove that she wasn't getting to him. Charlie narrowed her eyes, prompting Dean to narrow his.

"Excuse me!" A voice said from off to the side. Both Charlie and Dean slowly turned to look at a bleach blonde woman trying to look far younger than she actually was. "White wine—Zin if you have it." When Dean didn't move, she raised both eyebrows and let out a huff of annoyance. "Please," she exclaimed, drawing out each syllable in a way that made the word the opposite of polite.

Dean quickly poured the wine and handed it to the woman. She whirled on her much too high stilettos and click clacked away to torture the next person that she set in her sights. Dean glared after her.

"That's just one more of these damn people who didn't leave a tip," Dean growled, tapping his finger against a crystal vase that held a very scant amount of dollars and coins. "Ironically rich people are very cheap."

Charlie laughed. "I mean I can't blame the woman. You did make her say _please_."

"Shut up!"

"Aw, Dean, what's wrong? You don't like playing the hired help?" Charlie kept teasing. She finished off the last swallow of her drink, relishing the feel of it burning down her throat

Dean set the full force of his hazel eyes on her. When he spoke there was a touch of anger and cruelty in his voice that Charlie wasn't prepared for. "I'd rather be the help than have to pretend to be in love with you." Dean shot at her, nodding his head in the direction of the still trapped Sam.

Charlie stopped smiling. "Is that right?" She asked. Dean nodded as Charlie got up from her bar stool. "That's good to know," she added before walking away to rescue Sam.

As she approached him, he caught her eye and smiled in relief when he realized she was coming for him. Sam opened his mouth to introduce her to the women as his lovely wife, but he never got the chance. Before he knew what was happening Charlie had a grip on his jacket and was pulling his head down to hers. Charlie touched her lips to Sam's—surprised by their softness and by how good they felt against hers. He was warm and comforting, not the zing most people wanted out of a kiss, but it had the desired effect. She pulled him closer, deepening it for just a moment before breaking away and smiling at Sam mischievously. She turned to the women who were watching the two of them like they were a movie.

"Excuse my rudeness, but do you mind if I steal my gorgeous husband away? I've barely seen him all night," she said. And with that she pulled Sam into the hallway without a second glance at his gaping brother.


	13. Covert Affairs

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey people, what's up? Still a little disappointed in the lack of reviews but for the people who did review YOU'RE MY FAVORITE! Anyway, I'm doing a little happy dance because my story has just hit its teens. YAY! Soon it'll be going through puberty and all grown up (as in wrapping things up maybe). Anyway, this is also a bit of a celebration to get the story going while the new season of Supernatural starts this Friday. I'm excited! Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think. BTW the title is a bit of a shout out to one of my new fav shows on USA cuz its awesome and the title fit for this chapter. Thanks guys!

Chapter Thirteen

Covert Affairs

Charlie let go of Sam's wrist once they had hit the hallway. She quickly began scanning the doors for the entrance to the library. They were in a long corridor with many doorways. Charlie knew from the blueprints that one of the doors did in fact lead to the library. She just wasn't sure which one it was. She slipped off her heels to prevent them from echoing against the marble floor as she moved towards one of the doors. Sam still hadn't moved. He just stared at her.

"What?" Charlie asked after quietly opening and closing doors with no assistance.

"You just kissed me." Sam stated uncomfortably.

"This is true."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? It was a good excuse to get you away from those people and get out of the room without looking too suspicious," she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, but you could have thought of something else." Sam argued.

Charlie turned to look at him, clearly amused. "What? Are you telling me you didn't enjoy it?"

Sam seemed to be at a loss for words. He cleared his throat. "No, I mean, of course I did," he sputtered, "It's just that I think Dean will—."

Charlie cut him off. "Do you really think this is the best time to discuss this?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "You're right," he said with a sigh and he joined her in checking each of the doors in the hallway.

About halfway down the hall, Charlie found a pair of double doors. "I think I've got it." She called to Sam as quietly as she could while still managing to get his attention. She pushed the heavy doors and they slipped inside. Charlie closed the door and groped at the wall until she found a light switch.

The room was pretty big, but the walls and shelves were so packed with books that it felt claustrophobic. Charlie groaned. She'd bet anything that Bishop hadn't even read a quarter of the books that occupied the room. With a collective sigh, Sam and Charlie started meticulously skimming each book title shelf by shelf.

After a full ten minutes and a scan of every shelf they had nothing. "Dude we have to get back soon. If we don't it'll look suspicious. That or they'll think you're Superman."

Sam chose to ignore the awkward comment directed at his libido. "Maybe Bela's intel was crap," he suggested.

"No, this makes no sense," Charlie replied. She was looking around the room more closely, but not at the books. She was examining the small table at the center of the room and the fixtures on the small amount of free wall space. "This guys is well-known for his fascination with the occult, but I haven't seen a single book on the subject. Even if he doesn't have the one we need, he would have _something_." As soon as she stopped speaking, her eyes locked onto one of the light fixtures coming out of the wall. It was the same style as all the others, but the color was off—faded as if it had been touched a lot more than the others. Charlie walked over and put her hand on it. She pulled, not surprised when it moved like a lever. One of the bookshelves suddenly lurched forward and then slid into place in front of another case to reveal a door set into the wall.

"Jackpot!" Charlie said as Sam looked on in surprise. Charlie went to the door. It was locked. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair. "Knew this would come in handy," she muttered. She had the door jimmied open within seconds.

The new room was much smaller than the other one. It had just one long bookshelf and a desk. And there, in the middle of the shelf, was exactly the book they were looking for: the Necronomicon. They quickly scanned the rest of the books, finding four more that they thought could be helpful. Charlie grabbed two while Sam snagged the other three. Charlie pulled something out of her purse and placed it on the writing desk.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Leaving a note saying we'll be sure to return the books when we're done."

"What?"

"It's anonymous, typed, and with no prints," she explained, trying to dissuade his annoyance.

"You're unbelievable."

"No, I'm just not a thief. The guy deserve some sort of peace of mind for all this."

Sam just shook his head as Charlie rushed out of the room. He followed her. "Are you surprised by the lack of security here?" Sam asked as they exited the library after restoring it to its original order.

Charlie shook her head as she stacked the books in the empty liquor boxes Dean had left for them in the hallway. "Bishop thinks no one knows what he has. There's no need for security if you have nothing to hide. More security would just be a clue that he's got something worth hiding—it would bring him more attention." Charlie stopped in front of Sam and examined him as he mulled over this logic.

"What?" He asked, very suspicious of her examination. She crooked her finger at him to summon him forward. He complied, intrigued.

She quickly pulled at his bowtie, undoing it so it fell across his collar. She tousled his hair making it look appropriately disheveled and did the same to herself. For a final touch she pulled at his jacket, sending him into her.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Making it look like we had a reason to disappear for like an hour," she explained, pulling him harder to overcome his initial resistance. "Stop moving! I'm not going to do anything bad to you."

Sam relaxed. She swiped her thumb across her lips and smudged the lipstick residue from it onto his collar. He shivered when her hand brushed the side of his neck. She took a step away from Sam and examined him up and down. "That should do it. What about me? How do I look?"

Sam cleared him throat as he swept his gaze up and down her body, being careful not to linger. He shrugged.

"Sufficiently ruffled?" She pressed for an answer.

Sam immediately nodded and looked away. Charlie smiled, enjoying how uncomfortable she was making him. She looped her arm through his without another word and tugged him through the door leading back to the ballroom. They slipped back into the party virtually unnoticed except for a nagging feeling Charlie had that someone was watching her. She panicked for a moment, eyes quickly scanning the room. She let out a quick sigh when her gaze locked on Dean's. He was staring at her so intently that he was practically glaring, but not with anger. It was something she couldn't quite place. She cocked her head to the side as if asking, _What's up?_ and then the look was immediately gone from his face. He flicked his gaze to the doors Sam and Charlie had just come out of. She nodded her head slightly, a move no one would notice unless they were looking for it. It said mission accomplished.

Dean tore his eyes from Charlie and went over to one of the other bartenders to ask him to take over so that he could restock the bar. He grabbed the boxes from the hallway and made his way out to the Impala. He loaded up the trunk and sped away as Sam and Charlie kept up appearances at the party.

A little over an hour later, Sam and Charlie had driven back to the motel in Charlie's car. They were laughing quietly with one another as they opened the door to the room. Dean stood up as soon as they entered, looking back and forth between them sternly.

"What the hell took you so long?" Dean practically barked at them.

"We were keeping our cover. Didn't want to look suspicious by leaving right away." Sam reasoned.

"Besides they had good food." Charlie said, happily patting her stomach.

Dean perked up for a moment. "Did you bring me anything?"

"No."

"Then that's no excuse!" Dean complained, instantly becoming annoyed again.

Charlie decided to move on to a new subject. "I'm assuming you got the books okay."

"Of course." Dean said as if offended she would suggest otherwise. He bent down and picked up the box that he had set at the foot of the table. He dropped the box on the table with a thunk.

"Sweet. Let's take a look," Charlie said. She walked over to stand next to Dean and got ready to rip it open. Dean gripped her arm firmly. She froze and stared down at his hand touching her bare skin. She finally looked up at him to see that he was also staring at his hand like he was surprised by his own actions. He looked at her face, catching her eyes for a long moment before immediately withdrawing his hand.

"Sorry," he grumbled, "I, uh, was just gonna tell you to turn off your phone first." He waved his hand in the direction of her bag. "It's been ringing on and off the entire time I've been back and it's been driving me nuts."

Charlie looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?" She pulled off the small purse that had been hanging on her shoulder and popped it open. She reached in and took out her cell phone. "I had my phone with me at the party."

"Well, something's been going off."

It took a moment, but her look of confusion quickly melted into a look of understanding followed by pure panic. Charlie rushed over to her bag and started tearing through it. Sam and Dean exchanged a concerned glance before going back to watching Charlie pull out almost every piece of clothing she had from her duffle bag. Finally, Charlie found an old cell phone at the bottom of her bag and snapped it open. She pushed a few buttons and put the phone to her ear, her back facing the boys.

"Is everything alright?" Sam asked, taking a step towards her. She held up a hand to halt both his talking and his movement.

The room was silent except for the muffled words of the voicemail Charlie was listening to. Dean craned forward, trying to hear what was happening, but he couldn't make out a single word.

After a few minutes, Charlie slowly pulled the phone away from her ear. She took a few deep breaths, trying to slow her heartbeat. Dean could see her hand shaking as she gripped the phone tightly. Dean had never seen her so broken, so vulnerable—and he couldn't even see her face.

And then in a flash, it was gone. Her sagging shoulders immediately straightened. She clenched her fist quickly and the shaking was gone. She became a blur of movement, shoving everything back into her bag.

"What's going on? What's wrong?" Sam asked.

She didn't answer. Instead she shed the fancy blue dress she was wearing, not caring that she was left wearing only her underwear in front of the boys. Sam immediately looked away to give her privacy, but Dean continued to stare, too concerned with her behavior to inspect her figure, but too transfixed by her to look away. She grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of jeans and shrugged herself into them.

She finished packing and swung her bag on her shoulder, heading for the door. Dean stepped into her path and gripped her shoulders to keep her in place. "Charlie, what's wrong?" He said. He kept moving his face so she would look him in the eyes, but she refused his gaze.

"There's somewhere I need to be," she said.

"Where?"

"It doesn't involve you, but_ I_ have to go now."

"You can't just leave us."

She peeled his fingers away from her shoulders and sidestepped him. "I swear this isn't me running away again, okay? I'm still in with you, but I really need to leave. It's an emergency." There was a seriousness in her voice that couldn't be mistaken.

"Are you going to tell us what the emergency is?" Sam asked.

"No," she answered simply and opened the door to the motel. "I'll call to check in. I promise. Let me know if you find anything useful in the books." With that she swept out of the door, leaving Sam and Dean to stare at the spot she had been last standing and to wonder what the hell had been on that voicemail.


	14. Missing In Action

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note:** Hey guys, this is a little early Halloween Treat for you all. I hope you enjoy it. The mystery of Charlie's departure will be solved. I've already started writing the next chapter and I have a few after that one outlined so they'll be coming. Don't you worry. I just really want to thank those of you who review. You guys are really awesome (especially the ones who review more than once) and you get me really excited to write. So THANKS! I hope you like this and have a fun weekend. Let me know what you think and Happy Halloween!

Chapter Fourteen

Missing In Action

"Did she really just leave?" Sam asked as he stared at the door, dumbfounded.

Dean was on the move already, grabbing his belongings as quickly as he could. "Something must be seriously wrong."

"It doesn't matter. We can't just let her go. Castiel said we'd need her." Sam whined.

Dean stopped suddenly and turned to stare at his brother. "That's why you're worried?" Dean scowled. "You don't care about the fact that she was freaked the hell out? Charlie is one of the most logical and calm people I've ever met when shit hits the fan. But what I saw right then was panic. Pure, shake-inducing panic. And that scares the hell out of me that something's wrong with her. I don't give a damn what Cas said." By the time Dean finished speaking he was so worked up that he was practically panting. He spun away from Sam to continue with his task.

"Dean, I didn't mean it like that. Of course I'm worried. She's one of us. But she knows what she's doing."

Dean ignored him, and instead threw some of Sam's clothes at him. "Get going. We don't have much time."

"For what?"

"To get these books to Bobby so that he can check them out while we go after her. Can't let her get too much of a head start." Dean answered.

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but stopped himself when he saw the resolve in his older brother's movements. Without another word, Sam joined in the frenzy of flying clothes and helped Dean get ready to leave.

* * *

Charlie rubbed at her eyes for the fourth time in as many minutes. The sun coming through her window from above her car did nothing to help. Instead of keeping her awake the streaks of light were like bullets to the eyes, forcing her to squint and making it even harder to keep her eyes open than the sleep deprivation.

She let out a sigh of relief when she finally pulled into the nice, suburban neighborhood that was so familiar to her. She parked on the side of the street, just staring at the house looming in front of her. To any other person it would look like any other house on the block: big, light blue with dark blue shutters, two stories, and a lush, green lawn surrounding the entire property. But for Charlie all she saw was memories—too many that overwhelmed her causing a pang in her chest.

The confines of the car began to suffocate her. She quickly got out, gulping breaths of fresh air. She looked up at the house, let out a long breath, and slowly walked up the path like she was on her way to her own execution. She climbed the front steps and raised her hand to knock. She clenched her teeth when her hand began to shake again. She wanted to punch herself—_come on Charlie get a grip!_ She demanded of herself. The shaking ceased. She rapped her knuckles loudly against the door three times and took a step back.

No answer.

She could hear a dog barking inside and knew that even if the knocks had gone unheard, the owner would have come to investigate the barks if they were home. Charlie pulled out her phone and realized that it was only two in the afternoon. On a Thursday. She laughed; normal people have work at this time. She tried to remember when that concept had become foreign to her again. She couldn't help but miss the boys in that moment. She looked around the neighborhood, debating whether or not she wanted to go back to her car. She decided no and plopped down on the sun-warmed, brick steps, waiting for someone to come home.

* * *

Sam tried to concentrate on the road, but Dean's phone conversation was distracting him. He wanted to hear everything the phone company said, but he barely caught every other word. When Dean finally hung up, Sam looked over at him expectantly.

"The guy said that according to her phone's GPS she's finally stopped in a suburb right outside of Chicago."

Sam nodded, somehow more at ease now that he knew where she was.

"He's going to text me the address." Dean continued. He looked anxiously out the window like he was hoping he'd catch a glimpse of her in the passing scenery somewhere.

"That can't be too far from here." Sam said, trying to make Dean feel better, but it didn't work. Dean already knew this. Dean just nodded in response.

Sam looked in his side mirror, catching Dean's expression of determination in the reflection. Sam sped up noticeably and saw a twinge of a smile on Dean's face for the first time since Charlie took off.

* * *

Charlie woke up with a start, almost pitching over into the bushes next to the steps. Her butt and back ached from the uncomfortable position she had fallen asleep in and her skin felt hot from baking in the sun all afternoon.

She froze in place, alert to her surroundings, wondering what had woken her up so abruptly. She heard a distinct, beeping sound of a car being locked by a remote and realized it was the door slamming shut that had startled her so much. She looked at her phone—it was almost six o'clock. She couldn't see the driveway from her spot on the steps, but she knew that the driver would be coming around to enter the house through the front door.

She stood up and waited at the base of the steps. She watched as an attractive, young man turned onto the cement pathway from the driveway and headed toward her. He was looking down as he walked as if lost in thought. He didn't notice her. His black hair swooped across his forehead in a way that said he hadn't gotten it cut in a while. There was a sexy scatter of stubble along his jaw line. He wore scruffy well. He was a bit pale, but Charlie knew that it worked well with his blue eyes. Loose jeans clung to thin hips and an old, but well-preserved hoodie went over a long sleeve shirt that hugged a respectable amount of muscles. He looked good.

Charlie's heart started racing faster with each step he took towards her. She was both dreading the moment he would look up and see her and wishing he would just do it already. Finally he did and he froze.

She locked eyes with him and breathed deeply while she waited for her appearance to register and for him to react. She decided to help the process along a bit. "Hey." She called to him quietly with an awkward wave of her hand.

He didn't say anything for a long while and Charlie was starting to worry that he had stopped breathing or had a heart attack when he suddenly took three huge steps forward and grabbed her for a tight hug.

When the shock of his touch wore off, Charlie laughed. "It's nice to see you too," she said, curling into him and inhaling his signature citrusy scent. He pulled away from her, holding her out at about arms length and he examined her closely.

"You look good." He finally spoke, moving a hand up to cup her cheek, absently brushing his thumb over an old scar under her eye.

"I know," she joked, pulling out of his reach. "You don't look too awful either," she said softly.

He frowned at her, aware that she was purposely keeping her distance. She smiled in return, trying to convince him that everything was fine.

"So you gonna invite me in or are we gonna stay out here all night?"  
Charlie said, gesturing to the front door.

He nodded at her and quickly unlocked the front door. They went inside. As soon as she walked in the house she was almost pushed right back out. The dog she had heard barking earlier, a beautifully shaggy golden retriever charged and jumped on her body, nearly knocking her down. She laughed as the dog fought to lick every inch of her face.

"Aw, Zeus, I've missed you," she said, scratching him on the head before pushing him down to the ground.

"He's missed you too. We both have." Charlie focused on the dog instead of the sad voice of his owner. "We've both wondered where you've been," he continued.

Charlie turned her attention to him. "Gavin, please can we not get into this right now?" She pleaded.

He made no promise to abide by her request, but he moved further into the house. He set his keys on the kitchen counter and made a move towards the fridge. He pulled out two beers and set one on the table for Charlie as she followed him into the room. She took it happily and sat on one of the stools at the counter. She slowly looked around the room, noting the changes while absorbing all that was familiar.

The basics were the same. The large kitchen held lightly used appliances and it flowed into the living room with an overstuffed, brown couch and leather chair sitting in front of a worn coffee table and facing a nice, new TV. On the other side of the kitchen there was a long hallway with doorways that Charlie knew led to a bathroom, a laundry room, and an office. There was no dining room, the expectation was that people would eat at the kitchen counter the jutted out from the wall. And back toward the front door there was a steep staircase that led to a floor full of bedrooms, four to be precise—one in particular that used to belong to Charlie. She examined the photos on the walls and mantles, seeing mainly fresh faces that she didn't know side by side with the occupants of the house. But there was one picture that made Charlie smile. Even from her seat in the kitchen, Charlie could clearly see the faces that took up the large picture frame in the center of the mantle in the living room. A younger version of Charlie's face laughed at the camera as a goofy Gavin pressed his head against the left side of hers and a beautiful blonde rested her head on the right side of Charlie's. The group looked happy and carefree—a side of herself that Charlie hadn't seen in a long time.

"I can't believe you're really here." Gavin said.

Charlie laughed slightly. "Neither can I." She told him honestly.

"Where are you staying?" He asked. "Or do you live close by?" He added, hoping she'd slip up.

She ignored his second question, fixing him with a stern look. "I haven't gotten that far in my plans. I got your message and came right away," she said.

He laughed like that was the most ridiculous thing in the world. "If I had known that this was all it took to get you home I would have made something like this up years ago."

"Gavin…"

"No! Seriously, what is that crap? You heard my message and came right away? That's bullshit! What about all the times I called when you first disappeared, huh?" He got more and more worked up with every word.

"That was different. _You_ were never in trouble before," Charlie argued. She was calmly sitting back in her chair, looking him square in the eyes as he spoke so that he could see she was serious.

"Where the hell have you been?" Gavin asked, changing tactics.

Charlie just shook her head.

"Where?" He demanded.

Charlie suddenly slammed her beer down on the table, easily taking all of Gavin's attention. "Look, I'm glad I get to see you, despite the circumstances, but that's the only reason I'm here. When this is all taken care of, I'm going to disappear again. That's guaranteed so I'm not going to give you answers that will let you come after me when I'm gone again."

"This is such bullshit," he hissed.

"It's for your own good. Trust me," she replied. She wanted to cover his hand with her own to reassure him, but stopped herself, not wanting to give him the wrong idea.

Charlie could tell that Gavin wanted to argue with her. But he knew it would do no good. She was as stubborn as ever. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"When was the last time you ate?" He asked.

She smiled, happy that he let the discussion die. "It's been ages," she answered.

"Pizza or Chinese?"

"You're not going to cook me a gourmet meal?" She teased.

"You'd have to earn it," he replied.

"Pizza, it is."

He nodded and rummaged through the drawers for a take-out menu. "You need to use the phone to check in with someone before I order?"

Charlie shook her head curtly.

"No one for you to disappear on this time?" He pressed.

Charlie took the jab in stride, knowing his passive aggressive comment was the first of many. She could take it; after all, he deserved to be angry with her.

"No one who would care enough to come looking," she responded and took a swig of her beer. "They know I'll be back."

* * *

Sam and Dean pulled in behind Charlie's car and surveyed their surroundings. The neighborhood was well-lit and very "apple pie". Dean quickly got out of the car and went to pop open the trunk. Sam dashed after his brother, worried about the killer instinct that currently filled Dean's entire expression. Dean rummaged through the trunk, arming himself aggressively.

"Is that really necessary? This doesn't exactly look like a war zone," Sam said.

"Looks can be deceiving."

"Dean, come on, stop!"

"No Sam! She's in trouble. We have to be ready for anything." Dean was almost shouting.

After a long, contemplative look Sam joined Dean in arming himself. When they were all suited up, they slowly approached the house, alert to their surroundings. They climbed the front steps. With one hand on his gun, Dean used the other to knock sharply on the door. There was a long pause in which Dean was devising the best way to break in when the door swung open to reveal Charlie on the other side. She looked surprised for a minute, but her shoulders slumped as it wore off.

"Should have turned off my damn phone," she cursed herself before addressing the boys. "Why are you here?"

"To help you," Sam offered sheepishly. Dean was busy trying to see past Charlie into the house for any sign of danger.

"I didn't ask for any help," she said sharply.

"Your face said it all," Dean replied.

She narrowed her eyes in a pure deathray. "Really? What's my face saying right now?" She said in a dangerously low voice.

Dean met her gaze and she almost dropped her glare in shock when she saw sincere concern on his face. She softened a little bit.

"That you're not exactly happy to see us," Sam answered for Dean, interrupting their staring contest. He decided to continue speaking in hopes that she was distracted enough to forget her anger. "But since we're here, we could help you."

Charlie ran a hand through her hair and looked back and forth between the boys, trying to figure out what the hell she should do about them. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off when Gavin walked into the front hall.

"What's wrong? You don't have money for the pizza?" He asked as he came closer. He saw Sam and Dean and frowned, confused by the lack of food in their hands. Both brothers stared at the new guy. Sam cocked his head to the side. Dean narrowed his eyes and turned to Charlie.

"_This_ is why you left?" Dean asked. Charlie was monumentally overwhelmed by what she thought was a hurt expression on Dean's face. "To shack up with some guy?" Dean spat. Any feelings of warmth Charlie had felt towards him vanished with that accusation.

"And if it is, what are you going to do about it?" She reached for Dean's shirt, lifting it enough to show the gun tucked in his waistband. She stayed like that, letting her fingers brush against his bare stomach. "Shoot him? Is that was the arsenal is for?" She asked, pointedly staring at all the places she could see Dean was equipped with a weapon. Gavin took a giant step away from the brothers, hands raised in the air in surrender.

"The only person I want to shoot right now is you," Dean said, grabbing the hand that was touching him and detaching it from his shirt.

"I'm not shacking up, you asshole." She said. She pointed to Gavin. "This is Gavin. He's an old friend." Her voice hardened as she spoke each word slowly, making sure they all sunk in. "He called because his sister—my best friend—is missing."


	15. Fireside Chat

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey guys! How's it going? Here's a long one for you-at least it was pretty long when I wrote it out in my notebook. Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving. Thought I'd get this one out before my finals start up and before the Holidays. Hope you think it's good. We get A LOT of background info on Charlie in this one and her and Dean get a little closer. Yay! Anyway enjoy, and PLEASE let me know what you think!

Chapter Fifteen

Fireside Chat

Charlie stared at the boys expectantly, refusing to break the awkward silence first. Sam shifted his feet and peered beyond Charlie and Gavin into the empty house. Dean just continued to examine Charlie, trying to look past her glare and see if she was still panicked or if she had gotten herself back in control. He couldn't tell.

"You gonna let us in?" Dean finally suggested.

"No."

"You want to discuss this out here on the front porch?" Dean asked.

"I don't want to discuss this at all. I want you to go. I got this." Charlie said. She tried to close the door on them, but Dean quickly jammed his foot in front of it.

"So you already know what happened to her?" Dean asked, guessing the answer was no. She didn't respond. He continued talking. "You know what took her? How to get her back? Where she is?"

"How to kill the thing?" Sam chimed in, making it clear that he was on Dean's side.

There was a pause in the conversation before Gavin decided to put in his two cents. "Charlie, if they can help…" He let the sentence trail off as she turned to consider him. Dean took that as an opportunity. He quickly moved forward, swooping an arm around her waist and pulling her with him into the house and away from the door. Sam stepped in behind Dean and slammed the door shut as Charlie scrambled out of Dean's arms. She jabbed her elbow into his gut for good measure. He sucked in a breath and curled over, nursing his stomach.

"Charlie!" Gavin reprimanded her in surprise. She stopped, saving Dean any more retaliation. "Stop. Show them to the living room and I'll go get us all some beers. We're gonna have a little chat." Charlie looked like she was about to argue, but Gavin left the room before she got the chance.

She let out a frustrated huff and stalked into the living room. Sam followed, pulling a wheezing Dean with him. They sat down on separate couches, not speaking. Charlie knew if she started talking it would turn into yelling and she didn't want to go there. Gavin finally came back, juggling a round of beers. He sat next to Charlie and Dean raised an eyebrow at how close he chose to sit next to her.

"So uh…who are you guys?" Gavin asked finally and took a swig of his beer.

"Friends of Charlie." Sam answered vaguely.

Charlie did nothing to confirm or deny the statement.

"Really?" Gavin said warily, eyeing where Dean was currently clutching his stomach.

"Why don't you just tell us what happened with your sister?" Sam suggested.

Gavin nodded and Charlie leaned forward with interest. She hadn't been able to question Gavin before the brothers showed up.

"Uh, I don't really know. I came home from work two days ago and she wasn't here. She always gets home before me, but I didn't think too much of it. I figured she went out with friends. But then she didn't come home and I've called her a million times—she's not answering. She always answers."

"Any sign of a struggle or a break in?" Dean asked.

"Not that I could tell, but if she was taken from her room I wouldn't be able to. It's a disaster zone—always has been." Gavin answered.

"And what if she took off? Ya know, needed to just get away?" Dean suggested.

"No, she wouldn't do that."

"How do you know that?"

"She wouldn't! Okay?" Gavin said sternly. "She knows what it's like for someone to leave without a trace. She wouldn't put anyone through that again!"

There was a long silence. Charlie stared down at the floor—well aware that the comment was aimed at her. It hit its target.

"Okay fine. She didn't run away. But this could be just a kidnapping." Dean turned his next question to Charlie. "How do you know that this is our kind of case?"

Gavin spoke before she could answer. "What do you mean _your_ kind of case?"

Dean and Sam snapped their attention to Charlie, staring at her wide-eyed. Sam spoke up. "He doesn't know what you really do?"

Charlie shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It's irrelevant. I'm the one who can get her back." Charlie said to Dean. She turned to Gavin. "But I _am_ curious about how you got the number to my phone."

Gavin looked down at his hands. "Quinn—she uh, she gave it to me a while back. Said it was for emergencies if anything ever happened. I didn't know what she meant at the time." He finally looked up at Charlie. "I didn't even know it was your number until I heard your voice on the voicemail."

Charlie nodded. She leaned back into the couch and rested her tired head against the soft cushions.

"I don't know how she got it." Gavin said.

"I left it for her. Made her promise never to use it unless it's an emergency or I guaranteed that she would never see me again." Charlie explained.

"Good to know. Very fascinating." Dean interjected. Charlie glared at him. "But to get back to the point, did you find anything weird about her disappearance?"

"Other than the fact that she's gone?" Gavin asked. Dean nodded. "I don't really know. I mean, her wallet and ID are still in her room."

"No, not what I meant. Was anything out of place? Or was there anything that didn't belong?"

"Like I said, her room was a mess. But I guess it smells sort of different. And there's some black dust in there that is too unhygienic, even for Quinn." Gavin said. He shrugged his shoulders like that's all her could think of.

Charlie got off the couch and went to look quickly through Quinn's room. She swept through the mess, picked up some of the dust, and brought it to her nose. The color drained from her face and she rejoins the boys in the living room.

Dean noticed the expression on her face and immediately got to his feet. He moved to comfort her but stopped when he saw the strange looks he received from Gavin and Sam. He cleared his throat. "What is it?"

Charlie scrunched her forehead. "Sulfur."

Sam stood up and took a step forward. "That's not good."

"I'm aware." Charlie replied.

Gavin looked between the three hunters, both his confusion and panic growing with their interaction.

"It's definitely looking more and more like this is right up our alley." Dean said.

"He's right." Sam said to Charlie. "But it's up to you, are we in or out?"

She thought it over for a minute, staring at Sam and Dean. "I could probably use your help." She answered finally. Sam nodded and placed a hand on her shoulder while Dean smiled smugly. Charlie glared at him.

Charlie heard the jangling keys in a door and turned her attention to it. She reached for the gun that was tucked into the back of the waistband of her jeans. She could feel Sam and Dean tensing as well. The door to the garage pushed open, allowing sounds of the outside chitchat to filter in with three people carrying grocery bags. Charlie cocked her head to the side and looked at Gavin, who had gotten up to help them.

They were all girls. Two were tall blonds in their late twenties. Charlie recognized them both. They were a little older and a little wiser, but they were undoubtedly Charlie's former friends, Kate and Jill. The third was much younger and much prettier. She was still a teenager. Her jet black hair matched Gavin's and her bright green eyes matched Quinn's, making her very recognizable as the younger sibling of the two. Her name was Lila.

Lila spotted the company first. She inspected Sam and Dean and decided she didn't know either one. Lila moved her gaze over to Charlie and squinted her eyes to study her. After a moment, the light switch seemed to flick on and Lila dropped the bag in her hands. She ran across the room towards the living room, practically leaped over the sofa and threw her arms around Charlie in an enthusiastic embrace. Charlie laughed as Lila squeezed her tightly.

"Ease up, squirt. You're a lot bigger than you used to be when you did this." Charlie said in a good-natured way.

Lila pulled away to look at Charlie. Lila smiled and hugged her again quickly. Kate and Jill put the groceries on the kitchen counter and came into the living room.

"You never greet me like that." Kate joked to Lila. Kate smiled at Charlie and joined in on the hug. Jill stayed back from Charlie, slowly gravitating towards Gavin. Sam and Dean backed away from the group, not wanting to interrupt the reunion while still watching it intently.

"What are you doing here?" Jill asked. Lila and Kate pulled away from Charlie, but kept smiling at her.

"Gavin called me for some help." Charlie answered vaguely.

"What?" Jill spat and glared at Gavin.

Gavin shrugged. "She can help find Quinn."

"Is that why you came out of _hiding_?" Jill snapped at Charlie.

"Yes." She answered curtly.

"And what are the goons for?" Jill asked, pointing to Sam and Dean. Dean narrowed his eyes and took a step forward in protest. Charlie put her hand against his chest and pushed him back.

"They're here to help."

"Figures that when you come back you gallop in with the cavalry to save the day. Like that will make up for everything." Jill said sarcastically.

"Enough Jill! Let's all just settle down and talk. We'll get some food and catch up." Gavin said. His words sprung Lila and Kate into action. They went to the kitchen to unpack the groceries and figure out dinner. Jill sat down next to Gavin. She looped her arm through his, hanging off his shoulder. She glared at Charlie.

Sam and Dean pulled Charlie off to the side of the room. "Nice friends you have." Dean said, nodding at Jill.

For once, Charlie agreed with his sarcasm. "I don't know what's up her ass."

Sam changed the subject. "I think we should go to the County Sheriff's Office and check to see if there have been any other disappearances around town recently.

"Good idea. Let me just grab some water and then we can go." Charlie said. She started to walk away, but Dean grabbed her.

"Stay here."

"What? No!"

"Seriously, Sam and I have it covered. You look like you have things to resolve here. Besides you can do some more investigating here." Dean said. He was very convincing.

Charlie sighed. Part of her had been so eager to go to avoid further confrontation. She turned to Gavin. "Gav, can you give these guys directions to the sheriff's office?"

Gavin nodded. "You guys want to throw your bags in the guest room upstairs first?" He asked.

Sam and Dean exchanged confused glances. "Huh?"

"I insist you guys stay here. We have plenty of room and I wouldn't feel right if you had to stay at some gross motel." Gavin said. Charlie snorted back a laugh.

"Uh, yeah, I guess we can put some stuff in our room then first." Sam said. And the boys followed Gavin down a hallway to get settled.

Jill got up from the couch and moved to storm past Charlie. "Why don't you just get it off your chest now?" Charlie said. She seemed resigned.

Jill stopped walking. She turned back to Charlie and clenched her jaw. "I don't like you being here." She practically growled.

"And why is that? Because once upon a time you and I were friends."

"Because when you left, he was heartbroken."

"Who? Gavin?" Charlie asked.

"It tore him apart and now you come back—just show up at the front door and expect to have your life back. But you can't have it back. You can't have him back."

"What are you talking about? I didn't even have him when I lived here. We hadn't been together since high school. You know this."

"Maybe not, but he still loved you until the day you disappeared and for some time afterwards." Jill said. Charlie could hear Jill's voice shaking and she was afraid Jill would start crying. "I was there to pick up the pieces."

Light bulb flashing! "That's what this is about? You and Gavin are together."

"Yes, for two years now and I don't want you coming back to screw with him and screw with us." Jill hissed.

"You don't have to worry about any of that. I'm here to find Quinn. Period. Once she's here, I'm out of your life again."

Jill was visibly relieved. She didn't she to know what else to say after that.

Charlie laughed to herself. "You know, there used to be a time when we were friends. When you would have joined in on that group hug." Charlie shook her head and stared at Jill. "It's good to know where we stand now though." Charlie walked into the kitchen to help Kate and Lila. She sat at the counter and listened while Kate and Lila talked to her animatedly. Gavin came in and joined the happy conversation, prompting Jill to stand by him with her arm around his waist.

Charlie smiled and nodded at all the right times. She added to the conversation when she could and enjoyed the company of old friends. But there was a part of her that knew she didn't fit—that she didn't belong here anymore. Not in this house or with these friends. She should have been out there with Sam and Dean hunting. She loved these people more than anything, but they weren't part of her world anymore. This wasn't her home anymore.

* * *

It was a long night of eating and catching up before everyone else went off to their respective beds. Everyone except Charlie, who stayed up, watching the fire crackle in the living room. Sam and Dean hadn't returned yet and she was starting to worry about them—though she'd never admit that out loud. But more than watching and worrying, Charlie just sat there thinking. She seemed to be in almost a trance. She sipped on the glass of scotch in her hand. The flames danced in front of her eyes in a mesmerizing way. Such a way that she barely noticed the tears that escaped down her cheeks.

Charlie didn't even look away when Sam and Dean finally got back from their errand. Sam went almost directly upstairs to the room Gavin had shown them earlier. He said a quick "good night" to Charlie, but left Dean to debrief her.

Dean went to the kitchen and started gathering some snacks. He rummaged through the cabinets, looking for a glass. "So something is up. There were no other disappearances in your area, which makes me think your friend was targeted for a reason." He finally found a glass and filled it with water. He hadn't seen her face yet as his voice carried into the living room.

Charlie took another long sip of her scotch and then set it down on the table. Dean came in from the kitchen to sit next to her on the couch. He finally looked at her face and noticed the tear tracks rolling down her cheeks. He immediately put all his food on the coffee table and moved closer to her. He wasn't completely sure how to proceed from there. He wasn't good with criers. Especially when they were girls. Especially when that girl was Charlie.

"It's gonna be fine. We'll get her back." Dean tried lamely. He placed what he hoped was a soothing hand on her shoulder. Time for a new tactic. "I know you were sitting on your ass all night, but I was out getting some useful information." Dean joked. She didn't laugh. She didn't smile. She didn't even glare. She just continued staring off into space. Dean prodded her shoulder. "Say something. You're acting even stranger than usual."

Another tear slid down her cheek. "This is why I left." Charlie said quietly. Dean moved in closer so that he wouldn't miss a word. Their legs were touching and his arm draped over the couch behind her. "I didn't want this to happen. Not again."

"Again?" Dean asked softly, not wanting to knock her out of the trance. He wanted to know more about her—wanted her to explain instead of closing up again.

Charlie looked over at him for the first time. Her eyes raked up and down his face and finally settled on his eyes. He stared back, sincere in his concern and in his desire to listen. She had to look away to get the words out.

"You were right."

"When?" He asked. He smiled slightly. "It happens so often that you're gonna have to specify." The got a hint of a smile out of her.

"The night we met—back at my house. You hit a nerve because you were right. I _did_ lose someone and then another someone and another until I just cut them _all_ off because I was so tired of being the reason that the people I love died." Charlie said. She swiped at the tears that occasionally dripped off her eyelashes.

"You can't blame yourself for any of that stuff. I'm sure it's not your fault."

"No?" She looked back up at him. "You don't know what happened. You weren't there."

"Then tell me." Dean pleaded. Charlie started to shake her head. Dean pulled one of her hands into his own. She stared at their hands.

"I just—I feel like hunting's not the same without my dad. I mean, you should know what I'm talking about. I used to love it. Going out on a hunt with him was one of my favorite things to do. We were a team. We had a purpose. We had a good routine going. And one day my mom came home early and found out I had skipped school to "go camping" with my dad. And then she figured out that our camping trips weren't really what they seemed. She wouldn't let me go with him anymore. So he left for a hunt without me. Of course I snuck out to help him anyway once I figured out where he was going, but I didn't get there in time. Werewolf ripped his heart out."

Dean winced, "How is that your fault?"

"He had gotten used to me. To having back-up. If I had been there he would have been fine." Charlie suddenly let out a choked up laugh. "You'd think I'd be over it by now. I was sixteen for crying out loud."

"Sixteen?" Dean repeated incredulously. She ignored him.

"So I left home. I couldn't even look at my mom after that. And it just continued. I'd meet a lot of great people on hunts and I'd find out weeks later that something got them. A lot of good hunters dead. I mean, I kept on hunting. It was different without my dad, but it was important. And I had Bobby and John for help if I needed it."

"Wait, John? As in…?"

Charlie nodded, but she didn't elaborate any further. She bypassed it, relaunching her story. Dean promised himself he'd get back to it later. "I decided to take some classes at a local college. I mean this city is crawling with creatures begging to be put down so I figured I'd focus on local hunts and see if any classes or subjects caught my attention like hunting does. And that's what Gavin and Quinn were doing so I figured for once I'd try to be a little normal. I had grown up with them—they lived next to me when I was younger. After my dad died, I'd stay with them for weeks at a time between hunts. And then during college we all moved into this house together. I loved it and I loved school…and that's when I met Darren." Charlie smiled as she said his name, but more tears slid down her face than ever.

"Who was _he_?"

"Come on. I'm sure you can put the pieces together and figure it out."

Dean played along. "Your boyfriend."

Charlie nodded.

"You loved him."

Another nod.

She sighed. She moved a hand and reached for her neck. She tugged at the chain hidden under her T-shirt and pulled it free. On the end of the chain was a ring of the diamond variety. Small and simple, but still beautiful.

"You were married!" Dean was shocked.

Charlie shook her head no.

"Engaged then?"

"Proposed to." She told him. "Darren was sweet. The first good guy I'd been attracted to in a long time. But we were young and I'd only known him three months before he popped the question. I completely freaked out. I took off on a hunt. He was worried about me so he came after me."

Dean could quickly see where this story was going and he didn't like it.

"He thought I was in danger—which of course I was, but it was the kind I was used to. He tried to save me…and then I couldn't save him." Charlie put her head in her hands. "I couldn't have just given him an answer and so it's my fault he's gone."

Charlie started shaking from the sobs racking her body. Dean wasn't sure what to do at first. He placed a hand awkwardly on her back and rubbed it soothingly, but that didn't seem to help. He put both arms around her and pulled her to him. To his surprise, she curled into him, letting his body envelop her own, needing someone to hold her together.

"I killed the thing that killed him and I quit. I left so nothing like this would happen again, but now Quinn's gone and I have this sinking feeling in my gut that it's because of me." Charlie clutched at Dean's shirt and buried her face in his chest. He didn't say anything, knowing that it wouldn't matter what he said—that she wouldn't believe him. And he didn't want to argue. He sat there and held her for a long time until she started to calm down. The shaking slowly stopped and the tears eventually dissipated. He held her until they had both dozed off on the couch in front of the dying fire.

* * *

Some time later Dean woke up. He saw Charlie asleep on his chest. He carefully got up from the couch and scooped her up in his arms. He carried her upstairs to her former bedroom. He gently laid her down on her bed. She stirred and opened her eyes. He smiled at her and started to walk out the door. She grabbed his hand before he got too far.

"Promise not to hold this over me, but will you stay?" She was a little groggy and Dean thought she might have gone insane from her breakdown earlier. "I've gotten used to sleeping with you two in the same room as me and I don't want to be alone tonight."

Dean nodded at her and looked around the floor for a good place to crash. Charlie lifted the covers for him to slide in beside her. He raised his eyebrows, but he got in next to her.

"Can't promise that I won't hold this over you." Dean whispered in her ear. He draped an arm over her and the two drifted back to sleep.


	16. The Morning After

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hello. It's been a while, but ya know no reviews=no inspiration for me so too bad. Hope you like this one.

Chapter Sixteen

The Morning After

The sun started streaming through the blinds early the next morning, making Charlie want to burrow further into the plush blankets. She hadn't had the strength to open her eyes yet, but she could feel something warm pressing against her back. Her sleep-fogged brain quickly tried to sort through the events of the previous night and figure out where she was. Then it clicked: Dean. Dean was next to her. In bed. Her eyes shot open and immediately regretted it as she was blinded by the sun. She let out a small groan and shifted to block the harsh rays with her hand, but something kept it in place. She looked down to find Dean's fingers entwined with her own as his arm slung across her waist. For a long moment she didn't know what to do. She stared down at their clasped hands, running her eyes over every line of muscle and strand of hair on his tanned arm. She couldn't contain the twitch of a smile forming at the corner of her mouth. She gently tightened her grip on his hand and tugged it close to her chest effectively snuggling nearer to him. She closed her eyes, savoring the peace of the moment.

On the other side of the bed, Dean lifted his head off of the pillow to try and determine whether or not Charlie was awake. He watched her for a while, relieved to see her stress-free for the first time in a long time. He let his head fall back to the pillow. It felt good to hold her—to comfort her—which was a thought he never imagined he would have. He couldn't remember the last time he slept with a woman, not even after having sex with them. And he was definitely not the spooning type, but there was something about Charlie and the way she had looked at him that night before that made him want to stay like this all day. He shook his head, trying to knock that idea right out of his mind. This is Charlie he was thinking about—the girl who went out of her way to disagree with him, who tugged at his every nerve, and who annoyed him at all times. She challenged him. She shifted again, drawing his attention away from his confusing train of thoughts. He moved his free hand out from under his pillow and instinctively moved to brush the long strands of hair away from her face. When he realized what he had just done he snapped his hand away from her cheek, but it was too late. Her eyes fluttered open and he could feel her take a deep breath.

She suddenly twisted around so that they were face to face, eye to eye, hands still clasped. She stared at him, not remotely sure of what to say.

"Sorry." He said and cleared his throat of its sleep-induced hoarseness. "Your hair looked uncomfortable in your face like that." He mumbled.

She smiled at his discomfort and looked back down at their hands, no longer able to hold eye contact. He followed her gaze down to their hands and smirked. She chose that moment to look up at him and he cringed as he waited for her to smack him for that look. Instead she surprised the hell out of him by leaning closer to him and giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek. She moved so that her lips rested next to his ear and whispered, "Thanks."

It took all his willpower not to shiver at the feeling of her breath in his ear. He wasn't going to act _that_ girly.

"I was expecting like a slap, but that was much better." Dean said. She smiled and slowly unhooked one finger from his at a time as she rose from the bed.

"Yea, well it's my way of thanking you for not being a jackass last night."

"You mean for not acting like myself?" Dean asked.

Charlie laughed. "Yeah, pretty much." She stood in the doorway of the connecting bathroom and smiled at Dean for a long moment. "Well, um…I'm gonna shower and then we should get started on the case."

"Sounds good." Dean answered as she shut the bathroom door behind her. He stared at the door with a grin on his face for a good amount of time, not wanting to get out of bed and back to reality.

When Dean finally roused the energy to roll out of bed and trudge out into the hallway he ran into Sam who was climbing the stairs.

"Hey?" Sam asked with a fair amount of curiosity.

"Morning." Dean replied casually.

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Where were you last night? I thought you were gonna sleep on the air mattress in the same guest room as me."

Dean shrugged, trying to scoot by Sam for a cup of caffeine. Sam grabbed his arm.

"Did you just come out of Charlie's room?" Sam asked, flicking his eyes towards her door.

Dean raised his eyebrows and stared right into Sam's eyes, but didn't confirm or deny his suspicions.

"Oh jeez, you did." Sam ran a frustrated hand through his shaggy hair. "You slept with Charlie, didn't you?"

"What! No, man" Dean tried to play it off while figuring out how to tell Sam enough information so that Sam would leave him alone while leaving out anything that would piss Charlie off. "I mean, yes, I slept in her room, but nothing happened between us."

"Define nothing." Sam ordered, immediately not believing Dean's claim.

"No sex. Just sleep." Dean clarified, once again trying to dodge Sam so he could get down the stairs to the steaming coffee he could smell waiting for him.

"So you slept on her floor…"

Dean opened his mouth to respond and then clamped it shut again.

"That's a no."

"Why are you being such a little bitch about this? I slept in her bed, but we didn't do anything."

"How did _that_ happen? You two constantly pretend to loathe each other!"

"Pretend? No, not pretending." Dean commented, but Sam ignored him, keeping up his interrogation.

"And this is Charlie we're talking about here. She's not the type of girl to fall for your so-called charms and just jump into your bed."

"Why do you even care what Charlie and I do?" Dean countered.

Sam's face turned a slight shade of red. "What? I don't! Do what you want. I just don't understand how or why—seeing as you two drive each other nuts—Charlie even let you into her room."

"Look, she had a rough night and she needed some comfort."

"Oh come on, Dean. You're not the comforting type. And when have you ever 'just slept' with a woman?"

Dean's answer to Sam was cut off by the creak of Charlie's bedroom door opening. Both Sam and Dean immediately snapped their mouths shut.

Charlie stopped walking when she saw the two of them blocking the staircase. She finished tying her wet hair back into a ponytail and smiled at them. She shook her head and let out a short laugh.

"Wow, you two are _real_ subtle." Charlie said sarcastically, staring at each one of them pointedly. "You know if I wasn't a top-notch investigator the fact that you two were just talking about me may have gone right over my head." She said.

Sam shook his head and let out an uncomfortable laugh like he was trying to deny it. Charlie raised her eyebrows at him and he stopped and stared down at his shoes. Dean just looked at Charlie, slightly scared that their brief period of truce would come to an abrupt halt if Charlie thought that Dean had been talking about last night.

"How about this: you move out of the way so I can get downstairs and I'll forget this whole awkward moment ever happened. Deal?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other for merely a second before promptly moving to the side so that Charlie could pass through.

"Good choice." Charlie said as she brushed by them. She went into the kitchen, finding a note from Gavin that said he and the others had left for work or school (in Lila's case). She grabbed a mug out of one of the cabinets and poured herself a cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot. She sat down at the counter, flipped over the note, grabbed the pen, and started scribbling out her ideas.

Sam and Dean walked into the kitchen a couple of minutes later. Dean went through the cabinets, searching for mugs and poured both Sam and himself a cup of coffee. They joined Charlie at the counter, trying to figure out what she was doing.

"What's up?" Sam asked, curiously peering over Charlie's shoulder to see what she was writing.

She held up a finger, signaling for him to wait one minute as she finished scrawling the pen across the paper. When she stopped writing, she re-read the words, trying to determine if it all made sense.

"What are you doing?" Sam said again, slower this time. Charlie sighed and looked up at Sam with unveiled annoyance. Sam jerked back at the look on her face, not used to getting on her bad side. Dean grinned, glad to be on a different side of that look for once.

"Sorry." Sam mumbled. Charlie softened.

"I just…I had a thought." Charlie said.

"Doesn't happen often. I can see why you were so annoyed." Dean said.

Sam ignored his brother. "Care to elaborate?" He asked Charlie.

"I think Quinn was taken in order to lure me out." Charlie offered.

"And what brought this thought about?" Sam asked, not entirely on board with the idea.

"I don't know—a clear head. I got a good night's sleep." Charlie uttered, turning back to her piece of paper. Dean smiled widely at her words and even more so at the slight blush that crept up towards her ears.

"Look Quinn's not the typical target. There's no pattern here—for any creature. There's no plausible reason why she would be taken. And she's smart—she knows about monsters and demons and how to protect herself from them—I taught her the best I could. If she were taken by a creature there would be a stronger trace…something to go on. So it was obviously a demon—this thing was smart, not purely instinctual. She has amulets to protect herself from possession and ward demons away from her room so it had to be clever enough to take her when she was vulnerable. The only thing missing is motive—why go after Quinn? She's not an easy target and she wouldn't have gotten herself involved with demons. The only reasonable explanation for taking her is to get to me."

Sam just stared at her, surprised by the long-winded speech of an explanation.

"She has a point." Dean said. Sam turned to him incredulously.

"What is happening here? You're agreeing with each other. You don't do that." Sam said, looking between Charlie and Dean. "Ever." He added. "What the hell happened last night?" Sam asked, at his complete wit's end.

"Whoa, Sam, relax. Why are you so hung up on this?" Dean soothed.

Sam ignored Dean and glared at Charlie, wanting to hear the truth from her.

"Sam, are you sure _you_ got enough sleep last night? You seem a little on edge." Charlie said.

Sam sagged down in his seat and nodded. "I just feel like I've entered an episode of the Twilight Zone since this morning—and that says a lot when you consider our lives." Charlie laughed and slung an arm around him, gently rubbing his arm. "I'm not usually the one who disagrees with you."

"Dude, it was bound to happen some time. Nothing is different because nothing happened last night. I had a weak moment after a long day and for once Dean was a good guy and helped make me feel better." Charlie said.

"Hey!" Dean protested her 'good guy' comment. Charlie smirked at him and shrugged.

She turned back to Sam. "Look, you've got to admit my theory is valid and at the moment we have no other leads."

"True."

"And there's a lot about my past that you don't know. I have certain enemies who would know exactly how to get to me if they knew I was alive—hence faking my death. But after hunting with you two it's impossible to keep off their radar." Charlie explained.

"What enemies?" Dean asked.

"A few demons. They are to me what Meg was to the two of you."

"Meg? How do you know about Meg?" Dean narrowed his eyes. "_What_ do you know about Meg?"

Charlie's eyes widened, momentarily forgetting that she wasn't supposed to know about their lives—that she wasn't supposed to have read the Supernatural books. She shook her head. "You know that's not important right now."

"Yes, I think it's very important." Dean said.

"No, what's important is that these demons would want revenge. And if they found out how alive I am they would know exactly how to get leverage against me."

"Quinn." Sam answered the unasked question.

"Alright, where would they take her?" Dean asked.

"That's what we need to figure out." Charlie said. She grabbed her piece of paper and stood up. "I have a few ideas, but we need to narrow it down more." She shook her list of places at them.

"Looks like it's time to do a little bit of research then." Sam said.

"Oh yay." Dean said before following Charlie out of the kitchen and to their laptops.

* * *

Hours later, Charlie was almost ready to tear her hair out when a thought occurred to her. "Oh my God. I'm an idiot."

Sam and Dean looked up from their perspective research material. Dean started to agree with Charlie's self-deprecating comment when she fled the room. Sam just shrugged and continued reading his computer screen.

Charlie came back minutes later with a photo frame in her hand. "They're at the cabin!"

"Cause I know _exactly_ what you're talking about." Dean said.

"There's this shack in the woods not too far from here where we used to hang out when we were younger. That's where they are. I'm sure of it!"

"Why are you sure?"

"Think about it. If my theory is right it would have to be somewhere isolated so not to attract attention, but somewhere I would know about in order to effectively lure me out." Charlie thrust the photo of her and Quinn on the deck of the cabin in Dean's face.

"How'd they know about it?" Sam asked.

"Umm well, that's my bad. I've exorcised a demon or two there. And they _may_ have climbed back out of the pit."

"Smooth." Dean said.

"Shut up." Charlie hissed. "This is it. I know it in my gut." She looked at both of them earnestly.

Dean nodded. "Let's go check it out."

Charlie smiled in relief, relishing the notion that they believed her—that she had someone to believe her.

It took less than twenty minutes to gather all their gear and arm themselves with every last grain of salt in the house. Charlie was just strapping her gun to her waist when Gavin came home.

He paused in the doorway, seeing the packed duffel bags and intense faces. "What's up?" Gavin asked.

"You're back early." Charlie said. Gavin glared at her, wanting for an answer. "We are going to check out a lead." Gavin quirked his head to the side. "Guys, I'll meet you at the car." She told Sam and Dean.

They nodded, grabbed the bags, and went outside. Charlie turned back to Gavin. "I'm gonna go get her back. Don't worry." She said.

Gavin stepped closer so that he's standing directly in front of her. "Please be careful. I just got you back and I don't want to lose you again." Gavin gently touched her cheek.

"I'll be fine. I've been through much worse than this." She said, wanting to wipe away his worry and failing. She stood up on her tiptoes, pressing her forehead against his. "I promise." She said softly and brushed a whisper of a kiss against his lips. With that, Charlie stepped away from him, out the front door, and swung it sharply closed behind her.


	17. Burning Love

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hello, guys. I just want to say thanks to all my reviewers, especially those who have reviewed this story multiple times. We're getting up there in the chapters. There will probably be around five more chapter give or take. I hope you like this one. It's pretty long and there's a lot going on so I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think.

Chapter Seventeen

Burning Love

Every part of Charlie's body buzzed as she sat in the backseat of the Impala on the drive up to the cabin. Charlie could hear Sam and Dean talking—going over strategies—but she wasn't processing any of it. She was too busy trying to navigate her way through her own thoughts to let in any of theirs. The adrenaline from the anticipation of battle already had her brain moving at hyper speed and the all-consuming fear that she would once again fail at saving someone she loved wasn't helping at all.

She watched as the trees blurred by the windows and she sat up in her seat as the road signs marked them closer and closer to their destination. Finally she saw the turn off for the cabin and pointed the street out to Dean. He made the turn, pulled over to the side of the road, and cut the engine.

"The cabin is a bit further up the road, down a long driveway surrounded by woods." Charlie said.

"I don't see anyone watching the road." Sam said.

"Doesn't mean they're not out there," Charlie responded.

Sam nodded. All three of them continued to scan the perimeter, but found nothing. "I think we should do a sweep of the woods before we check out the actual cabin." Dean suggested.

"While you guys do that, I'm just gonna go on inside." Charlie said. She opened the car door and got out. Dean scrambled out after her and grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Are you kidding? No! You're not going in there!"

"Umm…okay, _Dad_." Charlie said sarcastically. She tried to pull away, but he just yanked her closer. Sam emerged from the car.

"Charlie, you know it's a trap." Sam said.

"And yet, it's the best chance I have of getting Quinn back alive."

"Then we're coming with you." Dean said.

"No, alone." Charlie said. Dean tightened his grip on her forearm. "If I go in there alone, then they won't know for sure that you guys are here. We are going to use that to our advantage. I need good back-up—I need you two to be safe in case something happens to me so that you can still save her." Charlie explained.

Dean sighed, released his hold on her, and stepped away. "At least let us scope out the area first."

Charlie shook her head. "I can't wait that long."

"We need to see what we're up against." Sam said.

"The longer I wait, the worse the chances get that Quinn will still be alive." Charlie argued. She turned to Dean, making sure she locked eyes with him. "I'll be okay."

"You better be." Dean practically growled at her as she said this.

Charlie nodded at Sam and Dean. "Just keep watch on the house. If I need you, I'll rub the back of my neck and you can come in guns blazing."

They watched as she slowly trekked through the woods, making her way up to the cabin. Dean didn't like the way his stomach dropped and his pulse spiked at the idea of her going in all by herself.

Charlie skipped up the creaky steps of the cabin and bent to retrieve the hide-a-key from under the welcome mat. She flexed her shaking fingers and took a deep breath before inserting the key into the lock and swinging the door open.

"Honey, I'm home!" She announced loudly. She stomped into the formerly cozy cabin, looking around with a hand firmly placed on the gun at her waistband. Everything in her front hallway looked the same way as it always had with the familiar pictures on the walls and the same carpets lining the floor. The only difference she could see was the faint glow of light filtering in from the living room. Charlie followed the trail of flickering orange light like a beacon.

She entered the room to find a woman sitting on the worn leather couch with her back to Charlie, watching the roaring flames in the brick fireplace. The woman's arm was laid lazily across the back of the couch with long red fingernails like talons drumming on the leather. The blood red contrasted greatly with the woman's long sweep of pin-straight, jet-black hair.

"I've got to say Charlie, I expected you a lot sooner that this," said the demon. Her voice was low, sultry, and a little raspy.

"Well, I guess I'm a little rusty."

The demon made a "tut-tut-tut" sound with her tongue and gave Charlie a mocking shake of the head. "That's really no excuse now." The demon rose slowly, allowing the silky gown she was wearing to shimmer in the glow of the roaring fire. Charlie prepared herself for the demon to face her, but when it did Charlie didn't recognize it at all. Or at least she didn't recognize the woman it was possessing. She looked like the typical choice for a crossroads demon—gorgeous and fit with dark hair, dark eyes, and a sinister smile—but this was no crossroads demon. There was an air of power surrounding the demon that seemed bigger than any crossroads demon. Her deep red dress matched her nails and was the kind of outfit whose wearer Charlie would have pegged as a "slut" if she had seen them at a club. Charlie quirked her head to the side, trying to get a better read on the demon, but it didn't help much.

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie saw Dean slink by the window. She almost winced, hoping to God the demon hadn't seen him. _Be a little more obvious boys, jeez_.

"I mean imagine if something else had taken your sweet, little friend—I don't think they'd be as nice as me. She'd be dead by now." Charlie glared at the demon. "And it'd be all your fault."

Charlie took a step forward and the demon raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "Why don't you just tell me where my sweet, little friend is? And then we'll be on our way and I'll let you stay in that nice, little body you stole." Charlie said and gestured up from the demon's head down to its toes.

"Now, now, don't get ahead of yourself. I'm enjoying our girl talk, Charlie. What's the rush?" It asked. Charlie wanted to squirm every time it said her name, but she didn't want it to see that it was getting to her.

"You want to chat, but you already seem to know so much about me. Why don't we talk about you? Like starting with—who the hell are you? It's only fair." Charlie said. She slowly walked to the couch, putting it between herself and the demon.

The demon's smile grew even bigger, showing off rows white, suspiciously sharp teeth. Charlie thought her eyes may have flashed red, but she wasn't sure if they had or if it was just a reflection of the flames.

"You mean you don't remember the last time we were here?" Aggie taunted. Charlie's eyes darkened. The demon moved towards her—almost gliding across the floor—but Charlie made sure to keep her distance. The demon let out a tingling laugh that made Charlie feel like spiders were crawling up and down her spine. The demon lowered her voice to an eerie whisper. "You don't remember when I snapped your boyfriend's neck like a twig?"

Charlie clenched her teeth and clutched the couch to keep from launching herself at the demon. "Aggie." Charlie growled out the demon's name.

The demon held up a hand, wiggling her fingers in a mocking wave. "It's Agrat-bat-mahlaht to you, sweetie."

"Right—that's the word vomit name your hellspawn call you, but I think I'll stick with Aggie." Charlie softened her glare and smirked. "You know what? Actually, the last memory I have of you is when I ripped your festering mass of putrid smoke from its body and sent it straight back to hell."

That wiped the smile from Aggie's face momentarily and Charlie reveled in that small victory. Charlie made a show of looking around the room and peering down the hallway. "Did Levi make his way out of the pit as well or is he still slithering around down there?" Charlied hissed. She leaned her hip against the couch and folded her arms around her chest.

"I'd watch my tongue if I were you, Charlie. Leviathan is keeping your friend company. He's taken a liking to her, but we wouldn't want to make him mad. He has very much enjoyed the sound of her screams." Aggie said. Charlie tensed at the mention of Quinn.

"Where. Is. She?"

"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours." Aggie practically sang this.

"Meaning?"

"I'd like to know where those scrumptious boys you've been following around lately are." Aggie glanced towards the window and Charlie couldn't help, but worry that she had spotted one of the guys. "I want to meet the men who could pull _you_ out of hiding. Without them, I would have truly believed the next time I saw you would be in hell. My turf."

Charlie shrugged. "They opted out on this one."

"Sure they did."

"Seriously, they're not complete morons. They can smell a trap and I guess I'm just not worth the risk."

Aggie moved quickly, surging forward before Charlie could react. Aggie smiled and grazed her long talons along Charlie's cheek. "Don't sell yourself short. "

Charlie dodged Aggie before she could touch Charlie any longer. Charlie stumbled away, putting as much furniture between her and Aggie as possible. "I don't know what to tell you," Charlie stuttered. She immediately cleared her throat, trying to squash the uneasy feeling Aggie's touch had caused.

"You really should have just played ball." Aggie told Charlie. Then she turned away and walked over to the basement door. Aggie called down the doorway in some language Charlie couldn't understand. It only took a moment for Levi to emerge from the basement, cradling Quinn in his arms. Charlie could tell it was him from the subtle hissing sound that always accompanied him and the glare he had aimed at her.

Charlie's heart started thundering the second she saw her best friend. Quinn was unconscious, but alive. Charlie could see the slight movement of Quinn's chest as she breathed. Her face was bruised and her blonde hair was a mess. She was dirty and there was dried blood on her clothes. There were cuts all over her arms and legs—both fresh ones and older ones. They were in strategic places to provide the most amount of pain, without nicking any important blood vessels that could cause her to bleed to death. Aggie wasn't kidding when she said Levi had taken a liking to Quinn—he provided the most torture to the ones he liked, which Charlie knew from experience.

Charlie immediately moved to Quinn, but Aggie stepped in front of her. "Uh, uh, uh, not so fast. Quid pro quo. You've seen her and now I want the Winchester brothers."

"I told you. They're not here."

"And I told you that I don't believe you. Now you bring them in here in the next five minute or her neck," Aggie pointed at Quinn, "is gonna twist just a little too far, a little too fast." Aggie held up a fist and twisted it slowly. Charlie looked over at Quinn to see her head twisting at the same speed in the same direction.

"Stop!" Charlie begged. Aggie stopped twisting, but didn't put her hand down. "You have me. Just let her go."

"Oh, but I want all three of you."

Charlie sighed and nodded. She looked to the window and rubbed the back of her neck, signaling for the boys to come in. She waited tensely, praying that at least one of the boys was paying attention.

Her prayers were answered when she heard the creak of a footstep down the hallway. She almost got her hopes up that Sam or Dean would get the drop on Aggie. Unfortunately, Charlie wasn't the only one who heard the noise, she could tell by the sudden sneer on Aggie's face. Charlie didn't know what Aggie would do if one of them shot at her and pissed her off, but Charlie couldn't risk it.

"Sam! Dean! Don't do anything stupid. Just get your asses in the living room!" Charlie called out.

"Smart move, darling." Aggie purred.

Dean walked in from the front hallway, gun in hand, but not aimed. Sam came in moments later through a back hallway with his gun pointed right at Levi's head. Levi hissed at Sam, his eyes turning to slits like a snake instead of the normal demonic black. Charlie shivered—she'd always hated Levi, Hell's resident serpent demon, which was just a nasty combination.

Aggie didn't like Sam's implied threat on Levi and the hand twisting slowly began again. Charlie couldn't stop her panic from rising.

"Sam stop." Charlie pleaded. "Sammy, please put it down." She continued speaking when he didn't obey. Dean saw what was happening with Aggie and Quinn. He motioned for Sam to join him on the other side of the room.

"Do it, Sam. Listen to her." Dean demanded. Sam took his eyes off Levi for the first time since entering the room. He saw how serious Dean was and then the panic on Charlie's face. Sam circled the room until he was standing next to Dean and then he lowered his weapon.

Aggie looked to Charlie and made a sharp twisting motion with her hand, causing Charlie to suck in a sharp breath. Aggie smiled. "Got ya," she teased. Charlie looked at Quinn and then closed her eyes in relief to see that Quinn was still breathing. Aggie laughed at Charlie's reaction and then turned to Sam and Dean. "I've been wanting to meet you boys for a long time now."

"That makes one of us." Dean replied. Aggie ignored his sarcasm.

"I've heard a lot about you two. No one told me how cute you are though. I could just eat you up." Aggie flashed her teeth at them in what seemed to be a strange combination of a flirty smile and a threat.

"You're not my type." Dean grunted.

Aggie's tingling laugh rang out through the room and Dean swore the flames in the fireplace intensified as it did. "Oh honey. I know exactly what your type is." Aggie looked into Dean's eyes and then looked discreetly over her shoulder in Charlie's direction—Dean got the point.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." He replied.

"Of course I do. It's my job, isn't it Charlie?"

Charlie glared at Aggie, not wanting any part of the conversation. She was very nervous about Aggie's next move.

"What do you mean it's your job? Who are you?" Sam asked.

"I was hoping you'd ask. I am Agrat-bat-mahlaht." Aggie answered, holding out her arms like she was formally presenting herself to them.

Sam and Dean just stared blankly at her.

"Is that supposed to mean something to us?" Dean finally asked.

"You humans are unbelievable. Don't you know anything?" Aggie seethed. Dean looked to Sam to see if he recognized the name, but Sam just shrugged. "I am one of Lucifer's most cherished wives. The demoness of lust and seduction. Of al—."

"Of whores." Charlie snapped. Aggie turned with a glare at Charlie for being interrupted. "She's the demon of sluts and whores. Which explains the outfit."

"I'll get back to you later." Aggie told Charlie. She turned back to the Winchesters. "I wanted to thank you boys. I know what you've done for my husband." She approached Sam, running a hand over his chest. "_You_ let him out by breaking the final seal." She then set her eyes on Dean. "And _you_, you put this all in motion by breaking the first." Dean stiffened when she approached him. "Oh how I wish I had met you in Hell. I heard you were a sight to see—torturing those souls on the rack. It's such a shame the angels had to ruin it all and yank you out." Aggie saw her words were taking their desired effect: Anger. A lot of it. But Dean was also worried at Charlie's reaction to her words. He slid his eyes over to her, but there was neither judgment in her expression nor surprise. All he saw was curiosity and concern—for him.

Dean tried to ignore her words. "You really shouldn't be thanking me. I plan on being the one to put your dog back in his crate." Dean told Aggie.

Aggie's eyes flashed and this time Dean was positive that the flames heightened with Aggie's bout of anger. The anger disappeared just as quickly as it came on. Her creepy laughter started up again. "You're not the sharpest tool in the shed now, are you?" She reached up to touch his cheek, but he dodged her hand. "Lucifer will be so happy when I send you down to see him. He'll say his thanks by making you his bitch for all eternity."

"Aggie!" Charlie yelled. She knew the demon bitch's M.O. and the tone she had just used with Dean was never a good sign. "He's a moron who doesn't think before he speaks. Don't be rash. Your boy may be pissed if you kill him."

Aggie quirked her head to the side and smiled at Charlie. "Well, isn't this an interesting turn of events." Aggie flew over to Charlie and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"What are you talking about?" Charlie scowled.

"Oh. How did I miss this before? You know how dangerous it is to interrupt me when I'm speaking to someone." Aggie scolded Charlie like she was a child. Charlie tried to look away from Aggie, but Aggie wouldn't let her. Aggie grabbed Charlie's face and forced her to stare into Aggie's eyes.

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"Oh, yes indeed, history will be repeating itself tonight." Aggie seemed to be talking more to herself now as Charlie tried to rip her face out of the talon grip.

"No, it won't!" Charlie said firmly.

"No, you're right. This time it will be even easier to distract you. Your feelings are so much stronger this time around." Aggie said, inspecting Charlie's face. Sam and Dean saw the sudden fear in Charlie's eyes and lurched forward to help her, but Aggie stopped them with one hand. "I can see your panic. I know what you're thinking: It'd be so much better if she just killed me now—why won't she just do it? You want to know why?" Aggie put her lips right next to Charlie's ears. "Because it's so much more fun to mess with you."

Charlie did her best to wriggle free, but it didn't help. "Don't!"

"But it'll be so much better this time. Once again, you'll be too distracted to protect them—to save _him_. And they'll all die because of you. Just like—what was his name? Darren?" Aggie said.

Charlie's hand instinctively felt for the ring around her neck at the mention of his name. "No, you're wrong." Charlie tried to sound strong, but she was clearly scared.

Aggie caressed Charlie's cheek with her talons. "Am I now?" Suddenly Aggie's eyes turned red as they had several times earlier, but this time she wasn't alone. Charlie's eyes turned the same deep shade of crimson. All of the worry and fear slid from her face, replaced by a sultry smile.

Aggie finally let Charlie go, satisfied that her work was done. Charlie turned and sidled over to Dean. His eyes widened as he took in her lustful expression and enchanted eyes. "Charlie, what are you doing?" Dean asked cautiously still unable to move.

"What she's been wanting to do for a long time now?" Aggie taunted.

Charlie finally reached Dean and scanned his body up and down hungrily. She touched his chest and ran her hand down it until it reached the hem of his shirt. She slipped her hand underneath his shirt and felt all of the muscles of his stomach. Dean's breathing hitched as she ran her fingers across his skin and came dangerously close to his belt. It took all his willpower to keep from groaning with pleasure.

"Look at you," Aggie said to Dean. "You don't even need my encouragement, do you? You'd give in now if you could." To prove her point, Aggie released her hold on Dean, focusing all her power on keeping Sam still and silent.

In some ways Aggie was right. It felt so good that Dean couldn't push Charlie away. He didn't have it in him. She pulled him close to her, clutching his back with her nails. She looked into his eyes and stepped up on the tips of her toes to reach Dean's neck. When her lips touched his skin, his knees almost gave out. Every nerve cell in his body was screaming at him to give in—to grab her and kiss her the way he had been fantasizing about for months. But he couldn't let himself do it. He couldn't take advantage of Charlie when she wasn't in control.

"Charlie stop." Dean said, trying to reason with her. "You don't want to do this."

"You have no idea how wrong you are." She breathed in his ear. She was practically panting with desire. "This is exactly what I want." She nipped gently at his ear and began another trail of kisses down his neck towards his lips.

"Charlie, we can't do this."

"Yes, we can."

"No, it's wrong."

"Are you saying you don't want me?" Charlie asked in a voice of total innocence that threw Dean off-guard and reminded him of the real Charlie. That is, until she started unbuttoning his shirt and then reached for the bottom of her T-shirt to take it off. He grabbed her hands before she could lift it up too far.

"No, that's not what I'm saying." Dean said. He pulled down her shirt so that her skin was covered. He took her face in his hands. "I'm saying that I don't want you like _this_." He made sure he caught her eye.

Aggie came to stand behind Charlie. "Don't stop Charlie. He wants you just as much as you want him." She whispered in that persuasive voice of hers.

"Charlie no. This isn't how I want to do this. I want you to be _you_." Dean whispered to Charlie. "I know I sound like a chick, but if something's gonna happen between us I want it to be because of _us_, not magic."

Charlie closed her eyes tight and when she opened them again they were back to their striking shade of blue. She winked at Dean. She could still feel Aggie hovering over her shoulder. "It's not the magic talking. Trust me, I want this." Charlie slowly brushed her lips across Dean's neck—this time less aggressively, in a way that reminded him way more of Charlie's style which only served to turn him on way more than the first time she'd kissed him there. Charlie's hands roamed south to Dean's waistband and he sucked in a sharp breath. She reached around his back to where Dean's demon-killing knife was sheathed. She grabbed the hilt and slowly pulled it out. In a lightening quick movement, Charlie wheeled around and plunged the dagger into Aggie's heart.

"There's no coming back this time, bitch." Charlie hissed and twisted it as Aggie screamed in pain. As Aggie's screams filled the room the fire continuously grew and then finally exploded throughout the room as Aggie collapsed, lifeless.

The fire started spreading quickly across the room. The initial explosion of flames knocked Levi away from Quinn. Levi rose and quickly fled the room. Sam started after him.

"Sam!" Charlie called. He stopped for just a moment as Charlie ripped the knife from Aggie's corpse and gave it to him. He took it and sprinted after Levi.

Both Dean and Charlie immediately began dodging flames in an attempt to get to Quinn. Dean got there easily and saw that the girl was unharmed by the flames. Charlie leaped over the flaming chair, blocking her from Quinn when a beam from the ceiling collapsed from above, breaking the floor where Charlie was supposed to land, forming a hole. Charlie let out a strangled yell and flailed for anything to hold on to. Her fingers gripped the ledge of the floor and she dangled over the basement, which was quickly catching on fire like the rest of the house.

"Charlie!" Dean screamed and started running towards her.

"No, stop! The floor's too weak. Get too close and it'll cave under both of our weight." Charlie ordered. He listened, but it was clear he didn't want to.

"Get Quinn and get out!" Charlie said. He fingers held tight to the ledge, but it was getting harder to hold on as the wood get hot.

"I won't leave you."

"Dean please, I need her safe. Promise me you'll get her out of here."

"Charlie…"

"Promise me!" He didn't promise, but he didn't refuse either. Charlie looked below her, trying to discern if there was anything down there. She looked back up at Dean. "Go! I'll be okay. I swear."

Dean stared at her for a moment before going over to Quinn and scooping her up to carry her out of the burning cabin.

When Charlie saw him carry her to safety she looked to the ceiling, said a prayer, and let go of the ledge, falling to the flames below.


	18. The Fallen

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey guys. It's been awhile. I'm pretty excited to be on ch. 18-my story has just become an adult. Anyway I was pretty surprised by the lack of reviews on the last chapter. It was intense and action packed and I got nothing. Not gonna lie, that was disappointing. But anyway here's the next chapter. Enjoy and please review.

Chapter Eighteen

The Fallen

Dean stumbled out of the flame-encompassed house, struggling under the weight of Quinn's limp body. He laid her down on the grass as gently and as quickly as possible. He checked for a pulse to make sure she was still breathing; knowing Charlie would kill him if anything happened to her. Satisfied that she was okay for now, Dean immediately turned back to the blaze. He started to run inside.

"Dean!" Sam hollered, emerging from the woods and running to his brother. The voice was distraction enough to slow Dean down as he looked at Sam. Sam caught up to Dean quickly, grabbing Dean's arm to prevent him from proceeding into the flaming death trap that was now the cabin.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Sam yelled at Dean, using all of his strength to hold his brother back.

"I've got to get to her! She's still in there!" Dean screamed, flailing his arms to get free.

Sam narrowed his eyes in confusion. "What?" He looked from side to side, intending to ask Charlie what he was talking about. But no Charlie. He took in the sight of Quinn, unconscious in the grass, and the burning house. No Charlie. He swung his gaze around wildly, trying to stave off the mounting panic. "No." He said. He dropped his hands from Dean and looked at the house in horror.

Dean went sprawling across the grass upon Sam's sudden release. He clambered to his feet as fast as humanly possible and started at a dead run for the front door, but it was too late. With a last roar of triumph, the fire swallowed the house as it collapsed upon itself in a deafening shriek of wood and metal crashing together.

"No!" Dean screamed so loud that his throat should have ached with the sound, but he barely felt the pain. It was as if he was no longer in his own body—he knew he made the sound—he heard himself make it, but he didn't feel the burning ache of his vocal cords being stretched to its limits from the scream and the smoky air. Nothing registered. She was gone. He had let her die.

Dean collapsed to his knees, unable to breathe let alone think. A steady mumble of "No, no, no, no…" tumbled from his lips, but he didn't even realize he was speaking. This couldn't be happening.

Sam didn't know which sight was more horrifying: the destroyed house or his destroyed older brother. All he knew was that they both equaled the same conclusion. Charlie was dead.

Sam's attention was ripped from the house by the sound of a long groan. Primed for a fight, maybe even needing something to take out his hurt on. Sam spun around, searching for the source of the noise. He softened slightly when he realized that the groan had come from Quinn as she began to find her way back to consciousness. Sam ran to her side, trying to consume all of his thought in helping her so he could get rid of any about Charlie.

"Quinn! Are you okay?" He asked her gently while slowly inspecting her for any signs of immediate or fatal damage.

She lifted her head slightly, wincing in pain. She sat up and her eyes fluttered open. She looked around, trying to catch her bearings and understand what had happened. She jumped away when she got to Sam hovering so close to her. She screamed with whatever energy she had left and tried to get away from what she assumed was just another demon.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay. I'm here to help you." Sam explained, but to no avail. She was still trying to crawl away. "You're safe. The demons are gone."

"Safe my ass," Quinn spat, taking in the sight of the burnt cabin. "I don't believe you." Her words were stern, but considering—like she secretly hoped that he was telling her the truth.

"I'm serious. We came to save you. We're friends of Charlie." Sam tried again. His voice almost broke as he said her name.

"Charlie?" Quinn asked softly and stopped moving away. She breathed a small sigh of relief and the corner of her mouth even seemed to twitch into a tiny smile. "I knew it. I knew she'd come. Thank God." She looked around the woods, wanting to reunite with her best friend immediately. "Where is she?"

Quinn looked so hopeful that Sam didn't have the heart to tell her right now—not after all the crap she had been through. "She's not here right now, but she wanted—wants us to take you home…to Gavin and Lila." Sam told her, trying to lie as little as possible, knowing he'll have to tell her the real situation later. Quinn moved to get up, but almost immediately started to topple sideways when the world spun. Sam caught her before she hit the ground. He made her sit back down to get reoriented.

"Stay here. I'll be right back." Sam told her, brushing the hair off of her face in what he hoped was a soothing gesture.

Sam pushed himself up from the ground and ran over to Dean. "Get up, Dean! We've got to go!" He urged.

Dean shook his head in a violent 'no'. "I won't leave her." Dean said stubbornly. His gaze was still bearing down on the house—the last place he had seen her alive. "We need to get her back—she deserves better than just being left in there. So no, I'm not going anywhere."

Sam grabbed Dean's arm in order to pull him away, but he wouldn't budge. "Dean, there could be more demons out there. And Cha—_she_ would want us to make sure that Quinn was safe."

Dean quirked his head to the side at that, like it was the first clear thing he had heard. He didn't say anything, but he didn't resist either. He allowed Sam to pull him to his feet.

The boys staggered over to Quinn and tried to help her to her feet, but she was still a little wobbly. Sam couldn't stay there any longer, couldn't wait for her to feel better on her own. He scooped her up—bridal style—letting her cling to his neck and lead the way back to the Impala. Dean reluctantly followed, hesitating for one final look at the ashes and dying embers of the cabin as a tear slipped down his cheek. He turned and followed his brother, for once not protesting Sam's decision to drive.

* * *

Sam and Dean helped Quinn out of the Impala after the silent drive back to her home. Quinn didn't much feel like talking once Sam got out the truth about what happened to Charlie. Her questions had stopped instantly at the news, giving way to a fresh wave of traumatized tears. The threesome made their way up the front steps. Sam and Dean stood on either side of her, an arm around her waist to help her walk. She was bruised and cut all over her body and Sam was fairly certain her ankle was severely sprained if not broken. It was clear she had been tortured for days on end, but she was strong. She would be fine eventually. After an agonizingly slow trip up the driveway to the front steps, Sam beat his fist against the door with an aggressive knock.

It seemed to take forever for Gavin to finally open the door for them, but after that everything was a blur. Gavin practically suffocated Quinn the minute he saw her, enveloping her in the tightest hug ever. He shouted for the others while she was still in her arms. They came running, swarming her with sighs and cries of relief. She didn't seem to mind as they made a fuss about her—she basked in the sea of warm, loving, familiar faces. Sam and Dean watched the scene awkwardly from the doorway.

All the noise and chatter streamed together, sounding like a drone in Dean's ears. One sentence broke through the chatter to his brain though. "Where's Charlie?" Lila squeaked, wanting to share in the celebration with her favorite adult.

Sam froze as the others began to notice Charlie's absence and the chatter died down. He could see Dean shaking out of the corner of his eyes—something no one, but those familiar with Dean would even pick up on.

The previous smile that had been plastered on Gavin's face had faded away, aware that something was very wrong. He turned to Dean for an answer, but Dean could make his mouth form the words. He slowly shook his head and backed away from the group. Sam watched in shock as Dean cowed away from them, making his way to the sanctuary of the Impala. Sam had never seen Dean so affected by a hunter's death before.

Dean watched from the Impala as Sam broke the news of Charlie's death. He saw the change in their faces and body language. He could imagine everything going through their minds—the loss, the denial, the pain. He felt it too. But mostly he was starting to feel numb. Everywhere. Just numb.

Sam made an excuse to leave, trying not to come off as insensitive, but wanting to let them be alone to grieve. He needed to be alone to grieve too. He returned to the car without a word to his brother and drove to a nearby hotel. He couldn't handle the drive back to Bobby's right now. Couldn't handle the knowledge that he was going to have to tell Bobby what happened.

Once inside, the boys sat in silence for a long, long while, already missing the sound of her persistent arguing. Sam couldn't organize his rapid-fire thoughts while Dean couldn't think at all. He sat, sagging against his chair, staring at his hands.

Sam suddenly stood up and started pacing—frantic movements matching frantic thoughts. He couldn't contain them any longer. "We can still fix this. We can get her back." Sam babbled.

Dean made no response. He just turned away from Sam, making sure he couldn't see Dean's face and the pools of tears gathering in his eyes.

"We get Cas to bring her back. He did it for you, he can do it for her!" Sam continued with his brainstorm while nodding along to his own ideas. "I mean, he said that we need her, right? And we do—we need her to kill Lucifer. Castiel!" Sam hollered, looking towards the ceiling. "Cas, get down here now!" Sam gave him a minute to come, but nothing. He started bellowing at the ceiling again.

Still nothing.

Sam slumped down on one of the beds, thoroughly defeated.

"Do something!" He whined at Dean. "He listens to you. Call him now!" Sam ordered. Dean did nothing. "Dean, damn it! I know you care about her—more than you even realize and this is killing you. Don't just sit there. Act like you give a damn!" He demanded.

Nothing. They sat in silence until Dean wasn't comfortable with it anymore. He needed to do something. Needed to feel something. He rose from the chair and walked over to the sink, filling one of the glasses next to it with water. He splashed some of the water from the faucet onto his face and then drained the cup.

The water didn't help. He gripped the glass until his knuckles turned white. A sudden explosion of rage coursed through him. He banged his fist against the marble counter until it ached. With the swift, sudden movement that reflected his years of training he whipped around, hurling the glass against the wall and watched it shatter into a million pieces. Sam watched, scared for Dean, but not at all surprised by his behavior. Dean continued in his rampage, shattering two more glasses and pounding his fist against the concrete wall.

A knock at the door put a halt to Dean's frenzied spree of destruction. Sam shot a hopeful glance at Dean who stood still, breathing heavily.

"Cas!" Sam said and rushed to the door, hopes high that the angel had come to save them rather than the more likely option that it was a neighbor come to complain.

When he opened the door, he felt like the floor had dropped out beneath him and his world was swirling into a confusing blur. It was a feeling he had felt only once before: the night his brother had come back from the dead.

This time it was Charlie. She was covered in ashes and blood with patches of raw, burnt skin in several places. But she gave Sam a grimace of a smile. "Hiya!" She said with a small wave.

Sam stared at her in awe, not completely trusting his eyes that she was there. He reached a hand up to touch her face, wanting to make sure she was real and not ghostly. He touched her cheek—it was real. She was really there. He immediately pulled her in for a tight hug, covering her entire body with his.

At first she laughed and hugged back, but after about a minute she had to say something. "Not dead. Need air!" She wheezed. Sam laughed and pulled away from her, but kept a hold on arm, wanting to make sure nothing took her away again. Sam seemed so happy that he didn't know what to do next as opposed to Dean who just stood in place, staring at her. Charlie found it very disconcerting. Sam ushered her in and closed the door behind her.

"How…how did you get here?" Sam asked when the shock started to subside.

"Where's Quinn?" Charlie asked suddenly.

Sam shook his head. "She's fine. She's back with her family. Now answer _my_ question, please."

"Cas." She answered.

"He listened." Sam said to Dean. He turned back to Charlie. "He brought you back."

"Ummm…he brought me here. He found me crawling out of the wreckage and did his little angel thing—popping me over here."

"Crawling out?" Sam repeated. "We thought you…I mean, the house collapsed."

"I know. I assumed you thought I hadn't made it out when you weren't there when I woke up. But no, unlike you two I'm still a virgin when it comes to dying, one and done for me I think. Cas said he heard you flipping out and had to come find me." Charlie said. She tried looking equally between Sam and Dean as she talked, but Dean's gaze on her was unnerving. So she focused on Sam.

"But how?" He asked.

"Well, when I fell—."

"Fell?"

Charlie shot Dean a glance. "He didn't tell you?" Sam shook his head no. "Well, the floor collapsed in and I caught the ledge, but I couldn't hold on long. When I fell I landed on a high shelf and it broke my fall to the floor."

"Yeah, but how'd you get out?" Sam wanted to know.

"Hold your horses, Sammy. I'm getting there." Charlie said. She took a deep breath and coughed a little from the leftover ash. Sam hurried to find a glass that was not smashed to pieces and filled it with water. She took it gratefully and sucked the water down. It felt good on her dry throat. "Thanks. Where was I?"

"Explaining how you escaped death." Sam prompted.

"Oh right! I hit the basement, which was quickly catching fire. There was a storm cellar door that had always been locked, but it was rusty. It took me a while, but I got it open. When I did, a beam fell, swung down from above and knocked me out. Literally, like knocked me unconscious and outside on the grass. I came to a while later—the house had imploded, the fire dying too close for comfort, and you guys were gone. Cas came a little later and here I am." Charlie finished her story and didn't know how to proceed from there. One thing she did want was for Dean to stop looking at her in the way he was. "Sam, do me a favor?" Sam nodded. "Can you grab me some food? We can keep talking when you get back." She said.

Sam reluctantly agreed, promising to come back as soon as possible. When he was gone, Charlie turned to Dean. She looked around the apartment, noticing the broken glass and other signs of disarray. "You throw a rager while I was gone?" She joked, nervously laughing to herself. He just continued to stare at her. "Okay, I don't know what that look is, but it's freaking me out. So stop!" She demanded. Dean didn't say anything, but he took a tentative step towards her. "Are you mad? Is that it? You are. You thought you got rid of me, but the bitch is back!" Charlie couldn't stop herself from babbling. "Look, I'm sorry okay? I shouldn't have gone in the way I did and I shouldn't have worried you when I fell. But I didn't know about the shelf really. Honestly, I assumed I'd brake my leg on the impact with the ground and I wouldn't be able to get out." Dean took a more confident stride towards her and she backed up as he approached, seeing something in his eyes that she thought was menacing. "I'm sorry I made you worried or pissed you off. I really am." Dean had her backed against the door so that she couldn't get away. "Or is it the stuff from before in the house? That was not my fault. You can't be mad at me for feeling you up or whatever, but if you are I am really and truly sorr—." Her ramble got cut off when Dean cupped her cheek with his hands and pulled her head towards his. Her lips towards his in a kiss that drove all the words out of her mind and consumed all of her.


	19. Fighting Instincts

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey folks, here is chapter 19 for you. I just want to give a shout out to the people who reviewed the last few chapters-you guys are awesome and you're comments got me really excited about this story. This is quite possibly the chapter that you all have been waiting for with Charlie and Dean's relationship. I really hope you like this chapter. I have the next chapter already written out, I just have to tweak it and make sure it's ready so it should take a lot less time to get the next update out and after that I don't think there will be a ton more chapters. So please read and tell me what you think about this chapter :)

Chapter Nineteen

Fighting Instincts

Charlie's eyes widened considerably as Dean continued to press his lips against hers. He pushed against her aggressively, pressing her up against the door. It took her a couple of seconds to realize what was happening, but when she did she surprised both herself and Dean by pulling him into her even further, kissing him back just as passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck, practically hanging off of him as he ran one hand through her hair and continued cupping her face with the other, caressing her cheekbone with his thumb. Their lips were completely in sync, creating a perfect rhythm that left them both craving more.

After a long time, Dean pulled back slightly, panting from the heat and excitement of the moment. He didn't go far from her though. The majority of his body still covered hers as they both fought to catch their breaths. Dean leant forward and rested his forehead against hers. He gave her a hesitant smile. The heat between them continued to escalate.

"Wow." Charlie gasped, still clinging to him.

Dean let out a grateful laugh. "Oh, thank God. I thought you might freak out." Dean said.

Charlie shook her head slightly. "Damn, if I had known that that's what kissing you is like I would not have mocked all of the bimbos that you associate yourself with." She joked.

"Can we not talk about other girls right now?" Dean replied.

Charlie laughed. She was trying to hold up their banter, but she couldn't decide between concentrating on his lips or his eyes and it was very distracting. Dean went in for another kiss, but something made Charlie stop him. She hadn't noticed when she first walked in the room or during her nervous ramble—and she had been a little too preoccupied by his kiss a minute ago to notice his bloodshot eyes. She slid her hands out from behind his neck so that she was holding his face.

"What's wrong? Please don't tell me you're regretting this already." His voice was hoarse as he spoke, laced with something like desire.

She shook her head and looked into his eyes. "Were you crying?" She asked. She tried not to smile at the thought, but he could hear it in her voice. She was secretly thrilled at the idea of him crying for her.

"What? No!" He scoffed at her.

"Then what's with the red eyes? And the tear tracks?" Charlie asked, tracing them with her finger.

Dean tried to look away, but she wouldn't let him.

She was full-on smiling now. "Aw, your concern is very cute. I didn't know you cared so much." Charlie teased. Dean glared at her.

"Shut up!" He growled. He did the job himself by kissing her again. She responded immediately this time, like a natural instinct taking over—a reflex. Her pulse started thumping rapidly and she was grateful that Dean held her against the door because she felt that otherwise she may have melted into a puddle on the floor. All Charlie wanted to do was wrap her legs around his waist and let him lead her to the bed, but she restrained herself. She pushed him away slightly to make him stop.

"We should talk." Charlie said and tried to put some distance between them. He grabbed her arm so that she couldn't get too far.

"Why? This is so much more fun." Dean said and leaned in again. She shoved him away and moved so that there was furniture between them to stave him off.

"No, because if we don't stop now I'm just going to throw you down on the bed and have my way with you."

"Yes! Go with that instinct!" Dean said enthusiastically.

"No! If that happens before we figure out what the hell we're doing, it is going to be very awkward hunting together. In the same hotel rooms. In the same crowded car." Charlie explained.

"Ugh!" Dean groaned from both mental and sexual frustration.

"Come on Dean, think about it. I'm not one of those chicks you meet in some random town for a one night stand and then drop for the next town and the next girl." Charlie said.

"I said I don't want to talk about other girls right now." Dean said, getting annoyed.

"Then what do we talk about? You want to tell me where that kiss came from? It's not like we've done that before."

"I don't know. It just happened." Dean said. He moved to the bed and sat down on it.

Charlie looked at him in disbelief. "It didn't just happen! You just came at me and kissed me—no prompting from me, no mutual romantic moment. It was sudden and unexpected for me, but you clearly made the decision to attack me with your lips." She ranted, getting angrier and angrier with every word.

"Attack you?" Dean yelled. "Like you didn't enjoy every minute of it."

"Oh!" Charlie made a sound of utter disgust and disbelief. "Someone's a little arrogant—overconfident about their kissing skills."

"You drive me insane! This is our problem. You argue with me on every stupid, little thing. You're ridiculous." Dean shouted at her.

"If I'm so damn ridiculous, then why the hell did you just kiss me? Is it cause of all the shit Aggie said about my feelings for you? Because she exaggerates!" Charlie screamed back.

"No, it's because the idea that you were dead—gone forever—made me feel like I couldn't think, like I couldn't even breathe. And I didn't want to waste any more time with this bullshit." Dean yelled. He fell back onto the bed as soon as he finished, exhausted from the long day and the fight.

Charlie stood and just stared at him, his words shutting up her suspicions right away. She watched him pinch the bridge of his noise like he had a migraine. She started to walk over to him. He didn't notice until she was standing right in front of him. She straddled him, sitting on his lap. His eyes shot open and he sat up again. His eyes studied her, trying to gauge what she was going to do next.

"Ya know that was really sappy of you." She said with a smile. Dean smiled back and rolled his eyes at her. "So all that stuff you said in the cabin—that stuff wasn't just to snap me out of the spell? It was real." Charlie asked.

Dean didn't answer, but the clear embarrassment on his face told her that the answer was yes. Charlie smiled even wider. She slowly maneuvered her arms around his neck. She leaned in. "I didn't realize you were such a girl about this stuff." She said and then she kissed him before he could respond. He smiled as she leaned into him and they toppled back on the bed. There was a certain thrill that came with the knowledge that she was the one who initiated it. He flipped her over so that he was covering her as they moved all the way up onto the bed. He decided to risk straying his hand from her face and down to the rest of her body—it would be totally worth the risk of her slapping his hand away. He ran his hand over her stomach and slipped it under her shirt. Her skin felt so good against his roughened hand. He was still kissing her when he suddenly felt her tense beneath him and wince. He froze for a moment before raising himself up like he was getting ready to do a push-up over her.

"What happened? What did I do?" He asked, concerned.

She tried to cover her grimace with a smile, but it didn't work to deter him. "Don't freak out." Charlie ordered. He gave her a look like "tell me already" and rolled so that he was sitting next to her instead of hovering over her. She stood up and lifted her shirt to show him the large bruise spanning her stomach with an outline of singed skin along the edges from where the burning beam had knocked into her.

Dean cringed and immediately got closer to inspect it for signs of infection. "Jesus, Charlie why didn't you say anything?"

She shrugged. "We were a little busy." She joked.

"Are you okay? This looks like a bitch."

"I'll live."

Dean looked up at that, fixing her with a glare.

"Yea, it hurts." She answered. "But I'm okay."

He lightly touched her stomach. She didn't react. He pressed a little harder, trying to test out if she had broken a rib or two. She hissed and slapped his hand away.

He rose both hands in temporary surrender. "You need to take off your shirt."

"Going a little fast, don't ya think?" She joked again, trying to get him back into the good mood from just minutes before.

"Stop joking. I'm serious—what other injuries are you hiding?" He snapped.

"I wasn't hiding anything. I was a little busy wondering if you were about to stick your tongue in my mouth, not how much pain I was in." Charlie argued as she pulled off her shirt.

"You need to stop bringing it up or you're going to distract me too much and I might miss a cut that could get infected." Dean said.

She didn't say anything, but she liked hearing how much concentration it took for him not to pick up where they had just left off. He moved behind her, tracing the lines of the minor cuts and burns on her back. The majority of her injuries were on the front of her body. He moved to face her again. He took in the biggest burn on her shoulder and a sharp cut that ran down her hip and seemed to continue down to her leg. He couldn't believe he had missed all of this when she first came in—to distracted by his joy and his lust for her.

He moved to the sink, soaking a washcloth with water and went about cleaning the ash off of her so that he could see the cuts and burns more clearly. He could hear her sharp intakes of breath every time he put too much pressure on her, but he couldn't bear to look at her, not wanting to see her in pain. He bent down on his knees get a better look at her stomach. He held her hip with one hand while cleaning her cuts with the other. Charlie tried not to let him see how much it stung—she didn't want him to be afraid to touch her in the near future. She placed her hands on either shoulder to keep steady and closed her eyes.

That's when Sam returned with handfuls of food, which he dropped at the sight of Charlie and Dean in what he assumed was a compromising position—only partially clothed, hands all over her, eyes shut tightly. Sam slapped his hands to his eyes, not wanting to see anything he shouldn't.

"God guys, seriously? I was only gone for like ten minutes!" Sam yelled.

Dean cast a glance back at Sam, but didn't stray his attention from Charlie for long. "Sam, shut up! Take your damn hands off your eyes and go get me some disinfectant."

Sam peeked through his fingers to see Charlie staring at him with his eyebrows raised. "Huh?" He asked.

"He's making sure I'm not gonna die from injuries. His concern is touching." She said, dryly.

Sam finally took his hand away from his face and inspected Charlie. He gave a sympathetic wince. "That doesn't look pleasant." Sam said. He bent down to pick up the food and placed it on the table.

Dean moved his hand off of Charlie's hip before Sam joined them at the bed, not wanting to clue Sam in on anything that had happened between them. Charlie noticed his sudden discomfort and decided to follow his lead—she removed her hands from his shoulders and took a step back.

Sam brought first aid supplies over to them—opening the box on the bed and handing stuff to Dean who started tending to each and every cut, burn, and bruise on her body.

Once Dean had gotten to all the worst wounds and started nitpicking about the smaller ones as Sam lectured her about telling them sooner, Charlie had had enough with both of them. "You two need to stop fussing over me. I'm good." She said, shoving their hands away and going to put her shirt back on. "You've both died before and you didn't make this much of a commotion about it. And I've almost died many times—this is no different. Now we have a job to do so let's stop focusing on me."

She pushed passed the two of them and walked over to the bathroom mirror to see how she looked. She did not like what she saw—a beat-up, sweaty mess of ash and blood. She had no idea how Dean had found her remotely attractive or kissable when she looked like this.

"A job? Meaning you're ready to leave here?" Sam asked.

Charlie shrugged.

"You mean, you're not going to go by the house to tell them you're okay? To make sure Quinn is okay with your own eyes?" Dean asked, folding his arms across his chest in a gesture of disapproval.

Charlie averted her eyes from her own reflection. She hesitated before answering. "I don't know if that's really the best idea. Would it really be better if they knew I was alive and chose to leave them or if they just thought I died and eventually got over?" Charlie asked.

Dean took a step towards her and lowered his voice a little bit. "I know you want to protect them, but right now you're causing a whole hell of a lot of pain that they don't deserve."

Charlie sighed rubbed at her eyes. "You're right. Just uh…I need to shower and change out of these clothes. I feel like I smell like a giant cigarette." She finally said. "Can I borrow your clothes? Mine are still at the house." She asked Dean. He nodded and had to actively try to contain the smile coming to his face at the sexy mental image of Charlie wearing nothing but one of Dean's plaid shirts. He watched her disappear behind the bathroom door and then turned to find Sam looking at him with his eyes narrowed.

"What?" Dean snapped and went to his bag to find his smallest clothes for Charlie.

* * *

About an hour later, Charlie was freshly showered and practically swimming in one of Dean's plaid shirts and a pair of gym shorts. Dean thought she looked like a sexy lumberjack—two words that he never thought could be used together. As they drove to Quinn's, Charlie sat in the back enjoying the feeling of the flannel against her skin and the spicy, woodsy scent of Dean that seemed to be woven into the fabric.

When they got to the house, Charlie's nerves started getting the best of her. She didn't want anyone to make a big deal over her, but she knew that they would. They approached the door together and knocked, this time much happier to deliver the news.

Once again, Gavin opened the door and he almost fainted when he saw her. "Oh, thank God!" He said, but he saw how beat-up she looked and was hesitant to hug her.

"Look who made it out after all," Sam said to break the sudden awkward silence that had arisen while everyone just stared at each other.

"Oh jeez." Gavin said, suddenly remembering the other people in the house that would want to know that Charlie was actually alive. He called out to them and they all came running. Charlie held out her arms to Gavin and he hugged her gently as the rest of the house came to the door. There was lots of hugging and crying and shocked disbelief—but all signs of grief from earlier had dissolved.

The longest hug and the most crying happened when Quinn barreled through the group and truly reunited with her best friend for the first time in years. Charlie held her tight as Quinn burst into tears, letting out all of the pent up emotions from the last few traumatic days.

"Thanks for saving my ass." Quinn mumbled into Charlie's hair. Charlie laughed.

"That's what I'm here for." Charlie replied.

Gavin finally ushered the boys into the house and the entire group reconvened into the living room, talking happily and animatedly. They chatted for a long while until Quinn made an effort to pull Charlie aside for a private talk, still in view of the rest of the group.

"I've really missed you." Quinn told her.

"I've missed you too." Charlie replied.

Quinn studied her briefly. "That's not gonna stop you from disappearing again though, is it?"

Charlie shook her head sadly. "Hopefully only for a little while this time. Not like before. But there's this big…thing I have to deal with—and if I succeed then we'll see. You could be seeing a lot more of me—maybe even have trouble getting rid of me."

Quinn grinned. "Well then you have no choice—the big thing you have to deal with, you've got to win." Quinn said simply, so simply that Charlie almost thought she could do it—that she could prevent the apocalypse. "And these guys," Quinn nodded to where Sam and Dean were standing on the other side of the room, "they're here to help you? You work together?" Charlie nodded. "And what's going on with you guys? The shorter one hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you've been here." Quinn observed.

Charlie looked at Dean to see that he was indeed staring at her. "I don't really know."

"He's cute. I'd be jealous, but luckily I have a type and it's super tall." Quinn said, eyeing Sam. Charlie laughed at that and hugged Quinn, missing these types of moments with her friend.

It wasn't until several hours later that Charlie gathered her things and she and the boys said their goodbyes. They headed for Bobby's house—Sam driving the Impala while Dean drove Charlie's car for her with Charlie riding shotgun so she could "watch his driving".


	20. Reading Between The Lines

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hello all, here it is my baby is no longer a teenager! Anyway I hope you enjoy this-the end of this chapter will become pretty important in the end of the story as a whole so that's good...Please read and review and all that because you know how much I like when that happens. And to the few people who do review and do it often I want to give a little shout out: You are all rockstars! I love ya and thanks sooo much!

Chapter Twenty

Reading Between The Lines

Dean looked over from the seat behind the wheel of Charlie's car to see her face scrunched in pain as she tried to sleep the in the passenger seat. Her burns and bruises were making it a lot harder to sit comfortably than usual and Dean could tell that she could use a break. He got off at the next exit he saw and hoped Sam would follow him. He pulled in to the nearest motel and got out of the car to talk to Sam, leaving Charlie still tossing and turning in her seat.

"What's up? Why'd we stop?" Sam asked as he emerged from the Impala. He looked in on Charlie. "Is something wrong?"

"Yea, she needs a break." Dean said. "I think we should stop for the night."

Sam looked at Dean curiously. "You're kidding, right? We've only got like four hours left. We should just push through."

"Seriously Sammy, I don't think she can last much longer. The car's not good for her."

"She's sleeping!"

"And she's either whimpering or wincing every two minutes." Dean argued.

Sam faltered. "Are you sure?"

Dean nodded.

"Fine. We'll stop. But, damn when did you get so concerned for Charlie?" Sam made the comment without much thought, but Dean was immediately on guard.

"Concern, psh? She's just driving me crazy—endless fidgeting and grunting. I can't take it." Dean said, trying to cover his actions.

Sam quirked his head at Dean's sudden change in demeanor, but he shook it off. Lately Dean had been all over the place and Sam had gotten tired of trying to figure out the reasons behind the erratic behavior.

Sam went to unload bags from the Impala as Dean tapped on the window of Charlie's car to wake her up. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking out her disorientation. Dean opened the door for her. It took her a lot more effort to swing her legs around and out of the car than she would have liked to admit.

"What are we doing?" Charlie asked.

"Stopping for the night."

"Why? We're not too far." Charlie said, wincing as Dean helped her out of the car.

"I can't drive another minute. My foot feels like it might fall off." Dean lied.

Charlie laughed. "Wimp," she teased.

Dean shrugged and moved to her side to help her walk. He looped her arm around his shoulder and snaked his arm around her waist.

Sam had disappeared inside the motel to check them in. He returned, waving their key in the air. "Room 208" He announced.

"You only got one room?" Dean asked.

"Well yea…"

"We need two." Dean stated simply.

"Since when?" Sam asked.

"She needs to rest. We aren't going to help." Dean explained. Sam looked annoyed. Charlie had been watching the conversation like it was a tennis match—back and forth. She finally joined the game.

"Dean, I'm fine." She protested.

"No you're not and you don't need us bothering you." Dean argued.

"Dean really…" She started to say, but at that moment he shot her a significant look that made her words trail off. She finally caught on. Yes he thought she needed rest and yes he thought she'd heal better with a room to herself, but he had an ulterior motive. The extra room would allow them to be alone together. Charlie quirked an eyebrow at Dean and then turned to Sam. "Actually, on second thought I think he's right." Charlie said.

Sam raised his eyebrows, but finally sighed and tossed Dean the room key before trudging back to the motel lobby to get a second room.

Charlie stared at Dean and finally let out a low laugh—wincing slightly when the vibrations put pressure on her ribs. "You're ridiculous," she said and started to the outside steps that led to room 208.

"Oh, you know you like it." Dean replied with a smirk.

Charlie couldn't deny that she kind of did.

About twenty minutes later, Charlie was settled alone in her motel room. She was lying in bed, but she couldn't seem to get comfortable. Every position she settled in seemed to be pressing on one injury or another. She was hot all over, almost like she could still feel the flaming house crashing down around her. Her brain was wired all of a sudden, flashing with images of everything that had happened in the last couple of days. She couldn't even begin to process it all and laying in bed thinking about everything wasn't doing much for her. She couldn't stand it anymore.

She threw a tank top on over a pair of boxers that she had stolen from Dean, grabbed a few things, and left her room. She wandered outside to the swimming pool, grabbing a towel off of the rack by the gate and putting it on a chair with the rest of her things.

She dove into the cool water without hesitation and instantly felt better. The cold temperature felt incredible on her singed skin and she finally felt the flush from the fire subside. She swam lap after lap, relishing in the ability to stretch her cramped muscles and testing out the aches of her bruises. After so many laps that Charlie lost count—not knowing how long she had been outside—she got the sudden feeling that somebody was watching her. She immediately stopped swimming and surfaced.

She looked up to see Dean crouching at the edge of the pool. Charlie treaded water in the middle of the pool, not ready to get out yet.

"I knocked on your door and you weren't there." Dean said.

"Well aren't you a little Columbo? Coming out and finding me here." Charlie said with a smile. "Good work detective."

"You scared me for a minute there—when I couldn't find you." Dean confessed, choosing to look down at the water instead of at her. She couldn't help but find his embarrassment cute.

"I'm touched by your concern. Next time I'll leave you a note." Charlie said before submerging underwater until she made it through the pool to the stairs. She stayed under for as long as she could in order to gather her thoughts. She finally had to come up for air.

She slowly got out of the water, dripping wet with her clothes clinging to her body. Dean couldn't take his eyes off of her as she fulfilled every one of his fantasies since first seeing Phoebe Cates in _Fast Times_ or Halle Berry as a Bond girl. He had to actively keep his jaw from dropping.

She shook off some of the water and stared at him pointedly. "You want to toss me my towel?" She asked, gesturing to the towel on the chair he stood by.

He didn't seem to hear her at first, but snapped out of his ogling after a moment and said, "Not really," while wiggling his eyebrows in such a goofy way that she had to laugh. But he followed orders and threw it to her. He tried not to stare at the tank top suctioned to her braless chest and turned his gaze towards her legs where he paused. "Are you wearing my boxers?"

Charlie had the good grace to look sheepish, "I might be."

"Thief!" Dean complained.

"They look better on me." Charlie conceded, giving him ample excuse to check her out.

Dean felt the sudden need to change the subject, "So what's with the sudden need for exercise?"

"Are you complaining about me staying in shape?" Charlie responded. She didn't know where this flirty side of her had come from, but she was close to crossing the line into cheesy. She tried to erase the tone of her last statement by telling the truth. "I needed to do something to sort out my thoughts. And cold water feels good after being burned in hot ashes."

Dean walked over to her. He moved to touch her, but stopped himself. "Are you okay? How do they feel?" He asked.

Charlie shrugged. "See for yourself," she said. She lifted her shirt to reveal the worst of it and let him look. He made a sharp hissing sound as he once again saw the extent of the burns and imagined how much they must hurt. Charlie quickly pulled her shirt back down. "Okay that's enough sympathy to last me a month." She walked over to where she had put her things, grabbed them, and headed up to her room. Dean followed behind her.

"They didn't look too bad, but swimming in a dirty pool isn't gonna help stave off infections." Dean told her. She just shrugged. "Not to mention that swimming alone in an outdoor pool when we are always hunted by demons is a good way to keep you completely exposed to them."

Charlie sighed. "Go check the filter if you're so concerned. There's a cross in there—I blessed the water before I got too soaked up in my laps." She said casually, trying to secure the towel around her waist, but to no avail.

Dean paused at the bottom of the stairs. "You were swimming in holy water?"

Charlie looked back, confused at why she had stopped. "Uh…yeah?" She replied.

He stared at her for a long moment before letting out a big laugh. He started up the stairs to catch up with her. "That's great—pretty smart actually."

"I'm hurt that you sound so surprised. I'm a smart girl." She told him with only a hint of sarcasm laced in her words. She continued on to her room and stopped outside the door, fiddling with the key in her hands. She leaned against the door, facing him as he caught up with her.

"So you came looking for me in my room. Why?" She asked—she was surprised how hard it was for her to get the words out and how awkward she felt once they were out there. There seemed to be an implication behind them.

"Why do you think?" He answered.

"Honestly? I think you want to try your hand at getting in my pants."

He couldn't help but let his eyes drift down to where his boxers clung to her tan legs with water droplets dripping down them, tracing a path along her thighs that he fantasized about tracing with his mouth. He tried to play off his gaze like he was just staring down at his feet. Charlie saw through it.

Finally he responded, "I thought you might want to talk some more."

"About what?" Charlie asked, feigning cluelessness.

"Come on Charlie. You know what we need to talk about." He said with a nod at her door like they should take the conversation inside.

Charlie didn't know if that was the best idea. She stared down at her key, willing it to make the decision for her. It didn't. She let out a long breath, but she put the key in the lock and started to open the door. She turned back to Dean, blocking the entrance to her room. "You should know that no matter what happens in here we are not going to have sex tonight," she said and then went inside, swinging the door open so that he could follow her.

He did, but he stayed in the main room while she went into the bathroom to change. Dean didn't fail to notice that she left the door open a crack. "I feel like you might be rejecting me." He called to her, trying to see what she was doing in the bathroom.

To his disappointment she came out a minute later, newly changed. He hadn't seen a thing. "Not that your ego couldn't take the hit, but that's not what I'm saying." She responded to the statement he had almost forgot he had made.

"Then what are you saying?"

"Well, if you haven't noticed I'm not exactly at full strength right now."

"I know that. I would never try and do anything you didn't want to do. I'm not going to add to further injury when you're vulnerable like this," he told her.

Her eyes widened. She sat down on the bed and rested her elbows on her knees. "Vulnerable?" She asked incredulously and leveled him with a glare. "Do I look vulnerable to you?"

He leaned back against the door in frustration. "Jeez, don't do that. Don't blow this one comment out of proportion and throw this whole conversation off track!" Dean practically begged.

"Easy for you to say. I didn't just make you feel like you were crippled so badly that I don't want to touch you. I'm not a freaking leper!"

Dean stood up and took deliberate steps towards her. "You want to be touched?" He growled. He leaned down so that he hovered over her on the bed, hand on either side of her, forcing her to lay back on the bed to keep her distance. "Trust me, I'll touch you. Just say the word." He stared her down, waiting for her to make the next move. But she couldn't move. She could barely breath with him so close—with the tingles of desire and heat spreading across her body at just the anticipation of his touch. She felt this magnetic pull towards him that was almost impossible to resist.

But she did. She pushed him away and rolled to the other side of the bed, using it as a barrier between them. "Just don't call me vulnerable." She mumbled, knowing she lost that battle, but wanting the last word.

Dean sighed and laid down on the opposite side of the bed where Charlie sat. "Are we going to talk about this?" He gestured between the two of them. "About us."

"I don't know." She replied.

"But there is something here right? That kiss isn't going to be written off as a one time fluke."

"I don't know, Dean! I'm not the type of girl who needs a label put on everything."

"And you think I am?"

"Why do you expect me to have all the answers then? What do _you_ think?" She asked.

"I think there's something here."

"Well, duh, but what?" Charlie asked.

Dean paused. He wasn't sure and he didn't know how to phrase what he was thinking.

"I mean what? Is this just gonna be like a physical thing? Was it just hormones? Or are you in regret—you got overly emotional when you thought I was dead?" Charlie pressed.

"No!" Dean said angrily. "I have no regrets. And we both know whatever is going on between us—those feeling started before the cabin."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really Ms. I'm never vulnerable even though I've cried in your arms." Dean mocked.

Charlie's eyes narrowed further into slits. "Nice. Real good of you to bring that up. I appreciate it."

"I'm just saying, I know you felt something that night."

"Yea, worried for Quinn!"

"Then why didn't you go crawling to Sam? Or Gavin for that matter." Dean argued and Charlie had to pause. She knew she was being a stubborn hard-ass, but she didn't want to be the first one to admit she wanted a relationship with him if that's not what he wanted too.

She decided to take the conversation in a different direction. "Why does that matter? You really want to be with me at all? All we do is fight!"

"Well yea, it can be frustrating as hell, but it's fun to get you all riled up." He rolled off the bed and walked over to her, reaching for her hand and pulling her up from the bed so that they were standing face to face. He laced his fingers through hers. "It's kind of hot actually."

Try as she might, Charlie couldn't stop the smile curling at the corners of her mouth. "True. But does that mean that you want to be in a relationship with me?" She said it almost shyly in a way that Dean found both sexy and endearing.

"Yeah, I kind of do—I'd like to see how this plays out. Do you?" He admitted.

Charlie put a bored look on her face and sighed. "I guess so," she answered and then let her smile break through. "But that means no bimbos from diners or wherever. Not while we're together."

They were so close now that their lips practically touched as they spoke. Dean made a show of looking her up and down and broke into a wolfish grin. "That shouldn't be a problem."

Charlie rolled her eyes and leaned her forehead against his. "And we should probably keep it quiet for a bit. Keep down any weirdness from Sam or Bobby," she suggested.

"Agreed." Dean answered. They had been staring into each other eyes and Charlie could tell that he wanted to kiss her, but she worried that she wouldn't be able to stop things from escalating this time.

"In that case you should go. We wouldn't want to make Sam suspicious."

"You're absolutely right." He agreed, but made no motion to leave.

Charlie started to pull back, but Dean held her in place. She raised her eyebrows in question.

"One more thing I need to do before I go." He whispered and then he kissed her. It took almost no time for Charlie to respond to the kiss. She was immediately overcome with a surge of heat and desire, wanting to kick the kiss up a notch, but to the surprise of both Charlie and Dean himself he kept the pace nice and slow. It was leisurely and gentle in a way that Charlie never expected. And when he caressed her cheek with his fingertips she felt like her knees might buckle, but she fought it, not wanting to break apart from the kiss. She pulled him as close to her as they could possibly get. She couldn't believe that two kisses with the same person could be so wildly different. The first was passionate and aggressive while this one was sensual, lazy, and delicious. For some reason this kiss made her feel safe—like he truly cared—while still exciting the hell out of her,

Dean finally pulled away, casually like he hadn't been as effected as Charlie, but she could see that he had been by the glazed over look in his eyes. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and leaned down to whisper goodnight into her ear before leaving the room.

Charlie stood, heart racing with a mix of terror, joy, and excitement. She fell back on the bed, overwhelmed, but a smile slowly spread across her face as she finally drifted off the sleep.

The next day the three of them made it to Bobby's with a full night's rest under their belt. The minute they walked in Bobby greeted them in a way that was completely overeager, leaving all three of them suspicious.

"What's with you?" Charlie asked.

"What? Nothing! I can't be happy to see you?" Bobby snapped defensively.

"No, you can't. Not this happy." Sam replied.

Bobby sighed and went to the kitchen to refill his scotch glass. "It's the damn book. I got nothing and it's driving me crazy. I can't even read a word of the godforsaken thing."

"You can't read any of it? At all?" Dean asked.

"No, your highness, it's an ancient language so I'm not exactly familiar with it. It's been slow going." Bobby spat sarcastically.

"And here I thought you knew everything." Dean mocked.

Bobby just glared at him and then took a swig of his scotch. He returned to the table, sat, and looked to Sam. "So fill me in on what you three have been up to."

Sam sighed, sat across from Bobby, and dove into the story. Dean and Charlie escaped to the kitchen while Sam and Bobby talked. As they searched for snacks they exchanged stolen glances and touches, longing to disappear for a kiss, but unable to find a plausible excuse to do so. They reluctantly returned to the study to hear Sam tell the tail end of the last few days. Bobby rubbed at his eyes and inspected Charlie up and down. She nodded at him and that seemed enough of an answer that she was okay. Bobby drained his glass and pushed away from the table again.

"A story like that calls for some good food. I can't look at the damn book anymore anyway. The words are all blending together," he said and went back to the kitchen.

Charlie smiled at him as he moved by her and sat down in his vacated seat. She pulled the book towards her just for the hell of it. The smile immediately dropped from her face.

"Uh, guys, I can read this." She said.

Sam and Dean turned to her and laughed off her words as if she had just made some stupid joke. After a long moment, Dean quirked his head to the side, realizing that she was completely serious.

"What?" Dean asked. "You recognize the language? Why would you teach yourself an ancient language?"

She looked at them one at a time, eyes wide with shock. "I didn't. I don't know how I can read this." She replied.


	21. Revelations

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hello there. I feel like its been forever, but it has only been a little over a month. Anyway, this chapter is a pretty big deal. You will finally get the story of Charlie and John and it is pretty much the beginning of the end. Be happy, I got a sudden burst of inspiration last night and wrote out pretty much the whole chapter because I hadn't been really focused on it at all. I hope you like it. Tell me what you think with reviews because we all know by now that I'm a glutton for comments :) Enjoy...

Chapter Twenty One

Revelations

Charlie stared down at the book, unable to take her eyes off of the words that seemed to transform and translate right before her. She blinked and rubbed at her eyes, making sure that they weren't playing tricks on her. There's no way she should be able to read this ancient text.

"You're joking, right? This is just some bad joke that's wasting valuable research time." Dean said.

"No, no jokes." Charlie responded. "It's like the symbols make sense to me—as if they were in English."

All three men looked at her with similar bewildered expressions—heads quirked, eyes narrowed.

"Okay then, what does it say?" Sam asked.

"Well, I'm not _entirely_ sure. The sentence structure is awkward and there are a lot of old school words that I'm not really familiar with."

"Well, try and figure it out." Sam urged.

Charlie finally looked up from the book to glare at Sam. "Dude, will you give me like ten seconds to wrap my head around this? If you think it's so damn easy why don't you read it yourself?"

Sam put his hands up in surrender and took a step back. He mumbled an apology. Dean tried to hide his grin, finding amusement in Charlie's anger being directed at someone other than him for a change.

Bobby quickly spoke up to change the subject. "I guess we now know why Castiel sent you two morons to get Charlie. The book must be pretty damn important in this upcoming rumble with Lucifer."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Charlie in concern. He didn't want to think about her fighting against Lucifer—didn't want her putting herself in any more danger. He cringed at the idea.

"Castiel!" Dean barked so suddenly that Charlie nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Jeez, Dean!"

"Cas, get down here right now!" Dean continued to holler despite Charlie's protests to his shouts.

Castiel popped into the room a moment later, looking at Dean expectantly. Charlie almost thought he was going to say something sarcastic like "you rang?" but then she remembered that this was Cas and that he would never do that.

"What are you shouting about?" Castiel asked Dean in that deep, raspy monotone of his.

"Why can she read this?" Dean asked, picking up the book and thrusting it at Castiel.

Castiel took in the book in silence—a long, long moment of silence. He studied it and then he looked up and studied Charlie in the same way.

"You can read this?" Castiel asked Charlie.

Charlie nodded and for once she saw something other than a blank stare on Castiel's face. She saw confusion. And that scared her.

"_You_ can't even read it, can you?" She deduced by the look on his face.

Cas looked back down at the book. "I know many dead languages and lost writings, but this one I have never encountered before."

"Yea, neither have I, but low and behold I can read it." Charlie said.

"Yes, very strange." Castiel responded.

"Wait, if you didn't know she would understand it, then why did you send Charlie to us? How did you know we would need her help?" Sam asked.

Castiel's gaze slid up to the ceiling. "I just relayed my higher orders back to you."

Charlie's eyes practically bugged out, but she let a grin lift the corners of her mouth. "No shit! I was chosen by the big guy?"

Castiel just gave a curt nod while Charlie let out a big laugh. "This is just…" She didn't know how to finish her thoughts. How is a person supposed to respond when they find out that they were chosen by God to help prevent the end of the world?

"So what now?" Dean interjected after he realized she wasn't going to finish her sentence.

"Charlie gets to work on reading that book." Castiel said. And then he was gone.

Charlie's head whipped around like she expected him to suddenly appear behind her. He didn't. But when she looked back at the table she saw that the book had been put on the table before Cas left.

Charlie sighed and dragged herself over the table. She plopped down in one of the chairs and flipped over the first page of the book, ready to get down to business. "I'm going to need junk food and a shit ton of caffeine so you guys can stop gawking at me and go get me some fuel," she told the three men who were watching her closely.

Days later and Charlie was just about ready to pull her hair out in frustration. She had made her way through the majority of the book, but there were still chunks of passages that she couldn't make heads or tails of. There was one passage in particular that was bothering her—it felt familiar and important but she just couldn't seem to crack it.

She let her head fall, smacking her forehead against the book pages and tried to ease the ache in her eyes. Reading so many words was making everything swim and she could feel the start of another headache coming on.

Bobby looked up from the seat next to her where he had been doing his own research. He laughed at her misery. "Oh stop your bellyaching. If you can read the thing it really shouldn't be taking you this long to find something useful."

Charlie's head shot up and she fixed him with a ragged glare. "I might be able to read the symbols, but we're still talking thousands of pages of ancient grammar and syntax here, including one symbol in particular that seems to have absolute no translation to English even though it looks eerily familiar to me. So why don't you stop being disruptive and make yourself useful by getting me coffee." Charlie snapped.

Bobby knew better than to do anything, but comply. Dean entered the room as Bobby scattered. Long days filled with longer hours where Charlie's head was constantly buried in a book had her on edge. Surprisingly Dean's presence was the only thing keeping her sane. He would just quietly sit beside her, keeping her company while researching other sources as opposed to Bobby and Sam who would nag her with questions and comments, or worse just sit and watch her read.

Dean took a moment to study Charlie. He could clearly see the bags under her eyes and the knots from where she ran her fingers through her hair. She looked like she had gone ten rounds with a vamped out Rocky Marciano. Dean cast a glance around the house and saw that they were relatively alone. He smiled. He walked over to Charlie and picked up her left hand in order to get her attention.

She looked up at him with a question in her eyes.

"Get up." He said softly.

"Huh?" She answered.

"Get up. Quick! They're gone. It's time to make an escape."

"No, I can't." She said, turning her attention back to the book and glaring at it.

"You have to. It's making you even crazier than usual."

Charlie was so frazzled that she didn't even react to his little jibe. "It's just so frustrating. I feel like I'm so close—like if I can just figure out this one word the entire translation will make sense."

Dean cupped her face in her hands and turned her head so that she would look at him again. "You need a break from it—rest your brain for a bit and when you come back you may have a clearer head for finding the answer." Dean's words made sense, but Charlie still didn't seem completely convinced. "Also if we escape now we can be truly alone together for the first time in days."

That idea immediately brought a smile to her face. She pushed up from her chair, grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him out of the house.

"I knew you wanted me bad." Dean said as he stumbled over his own feet as she yanked him harder.

"Where can we go?" She asked. She stopped and turned to face him, sliding her arms around his neck. She rose up on her tip-toes to put her lips a breath distance away from his ear. "Any ideas?" She whispered and then went about nibbling at Dean's ear in a way that made him groan with pleasure.

"The Impala is around the corner in the junkyard, out of sight." Dean answered. She didn't make any motion to walk to the car, just continued nipping and sucking at the sensitive spot behind his ear. He didn't want to waste any more time here. Gripping her thighs, he hoisted her up so that she wrapped her legs around his waist and carried her around the junk to the waiting Impala.

Charlie jumped off of him as Dean fumbled through his pockets for the keys. He finally found them and was in such a rush to put the key in the lock that he nearly scratched the paint on his baby. Charlie laughed at his enthusiasm and helped guide his hand. They finally got the door unlocked and opened and then climbed inside.

Dean felt like he was back in high school—fumbling hands, racing pulses, and desperate kisses. Though Dean couldn't remember any high school girl making him feel this excited…this invigorated. In fact, he couldn't remember any girl who made him feel this good. Ever.

Charlie arched her back suddenly, making Dean's body react instantly and happily. Dean broke from her lips for a moment. "I like the eagerness."

Charlie started laughing and raised her hips higher. "Don't flatter yourself tiger. I'm laying on Sam's empty Gatorade bottle." She shifted a few more times and then Dean heard the bottle finally clatter to the floor.

Charlie relaxed her hip back down to the seat so that she and Dean were no longer pelvis to pelvis. She still had a huge grin on her face from Dean's presumption. He couldn't help but smile back. The exchange had disrupted the frenzied make-out session. Dean moved his hands to her face and caressed her cheek.

"It's nice to see you smile again." Dean whispered.

Charlie moved towards him slowly and gave him a leisurely kiss as her hands clung to his shirt.

"Thanks. I needed this."

"So your head is clearing?" Dean asked, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

Charlie shook her head. "No, it's still fuzzy—just a different kind of fuzzy." She said, looking at him pointedly and slipping her hands under his shirt to feel up his stomach underneath and make sure he understood her meaning. "What about you?"

"I wouldn't say you make me feel fuzzy. More like sizzling or zinging."

"I like that." Charlie said as her hands continued to roam. "But I should get back soon. I'm almost there. Ya know 'Life's real failure is when you don't realize how close you were to success when you gave up.'"

Dean jerked back a bit when she said that. "Where did you hear that?"

"What?"

"That saying—that's so weird. My dad used to say that. I think he stole it from my mom. It never really sounded like him to me, but he's the only one I ever heard say that." Dean tilted his head to the side and stared at her.

Charlie inwardly flinched. She had forgotten the source of that saying. "You're right," she said, leaning closer to him. "That is weird." And she pulled him to her lips, picking up where they had left off. But Charlie's mind was elsewhere, running over John's words in her head and wondering why they had chosen that moment to pop into her head. Her thoughts took off from there until… "Oh my God! John!" She pushed Dean away and tried to climb around him to make it to the car door.

Dean sputtered in confusion at Charlie's sudden change. He grabbed her arm, trying to keep her in the car. "Umm, not John—gross. I'm Dean."

She looked at him for a moment, pressed a quick kiss to his lips, and said, "I know." And then she tore from his grip, bolted from the car, and went into the house. Dean took a moment to gather himself and then followed her in.

Charlie tore into the house and made a bee-line for Dean's duffle bag, ignoring Bobby and the steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

"Where have you been?" Bobby asked, taking in her disheveled appearance. Charlie didn't respond, but Dean's entrance to the room in a similar state of dishevelment gave Bobby an answer. "Oh, damn it. You two? Really?" He said, looking back and forth between the couple. Dean gaped at him, unsure of what to say while Charlie just continued to tear apart the bag.

"I need the journal—John's journal. Where is it?"

"What? Why do you need my dad's journal? How do you even know about it?" Dean fired off question after question, getting more frustrated and confused with each one.

Charlie just got more and more aggressive in her search.

"Charlie, you need to calm down." Bobby ordered.

"No Bobby, you don't understand. That final symbol—I've seen it before, but I couldn't place it until now. It's in John's journal—that's where I've seen it before." She told him. Bobby was surprised, but he let a hint of a smile creep onto his face. Dean was completely perplexed, wondering how on earth Charlie had gotten her hands on the journal long enough to read it.

"What's going on in here?" Sam asked from the doorway. He was carrying bags of takeout for dinner.

"Oh Sam! Good! Where's your dad's journal?"

"Uh…in my bag in the bedroom." Sam answered and Charlie fled to go get it.

Sam looked to Dean and Bobby for some kind of explanation, but neither were inclined to give him one. Charlie returned to the room, journal in hand and immediately found the page she was looking for.

"This is it, guys. This could completely clear up the confusion over that passage!" In her excitement, Charlie was barely aware of their presence, pretty much talking to herself. "Damn, I just wish John was still alive. He never did tell me where he found this symbol." Charlie moved over to the table where the Necronomicon lay open and set the journal down next to it. She sat in order to finish the translation, but Dean wasn't ready to let her. He moved quickly, snatching the journal from the table and glaring at Charlie.

She immediately stood back up. "What the hell are you doing? I need that!" She yelled in annoyance.

"No, you need to explain yourself first." Dean said sternly.

"We don't have time for this. Sam, tell him." She pleaded to who she believed would be the more reasonable brother.

"Actually…I'd like to know too." Sam replied.

"Know what?"

"What exactly was your relationship with our dad? How did you know him?" Dean asked.

"I've already told Sam this. I had met him while on hunt with my father." Charlie answered vaguely.

"That doesn't explain the journal. Our father wasn't exactly trusting. I mean, he barely let Bobby look at this. He would only let you see it if you were close to him." Sam said.

Charlie knew this was true.

A disturbing idea suddenly came to Dean. "Oh jeez, you and him were…ya know?" Dean couldn't voice his disgusting thought aloud.

Charlie knew exactly what he was referring to and she couldn't even believe he would think that. "We weren't what?" She challenged with a glare.

"Were you having an affair with him?" He sputtered out, phrasing it in the least offensive way possible. He was prepared to start gagging if she confirmed it.

"Of course not." She said firmly.

Dean let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Oh please don't let this be another Adam situation." Sam grumbled, rubbing his temple.

Dean shot Sam a look of complete alarm.

"Ew! No, I'm not your sister! That's disgusting." She focused her eyes on Dean. "Do you really think I would have let anything happen with us if I was related to you? Who do you think I am?" Charlie yelled, clearly offended.

Sam looked between Charlie and Dean. "Wait, something happened…I knew it!" Sam exclaimed. "You two have been acting so weird and civil late—."

Dean cut him off. "Sammy, not the time to get a clue." He said. "The more important detail is how you know what Sam meant about Adam—that he was our brother."

Charlie looked at Dean then, noticing the edge in his eyes. "Was?" Charlie asked softly, almost afraid for the answer.

Sam looked down at his hands sadly. "He died."

Charlie closed her eyes, looking truly pained by the news.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"What? You didn't already know? You seem to know everything." Dean spat.

Charlie could see he was pissed that she hadn't been honest with him.

"I don't know everything, but I _did_ know your dad well."

"How?" Sam asked.

"He became my partner of sorts. On hunts. And then slowly, but surely he became one of my closest friends."

"No, that's not possible. We would have met you." Dean replied.

"He wanted to keep me separate. Didn't want me meeting you guys because he didn't want our hunting relationship to go past a convenient professional partnership."

"How did it even start?" Dean asked.

Charlie slowly lowered herself into the chair, preparing to launch into the long story. She looked at Bobby, who had been quietly watching the conversation from the corner of the room. He nodded at her, encouraging her to speak. "Sam, I was telling you the truth about the picture I showed you in the Impala. I drew that the night I met John. I was on a hunt with my dad. We were going after the same group of witches. There were five of them—he was even more outnumbered than we were, so in a move that I realized later was completely out of character for him we decided to work together. He was pretty desperate. After that hunt they kept in touch—our dads had a lot in common. They would call each other if one was in the area and the other needed help. I pretty much kept my distance from John, but when my dad died he was one of the few hunters that I felt I knew enough to call if I needed help. So one day I needed help and I called. We made a good team. So next time he needed help, he called. And it just became normal. We worked together more and more and we became friends. When I moved in with Quinn and Gavin, I started taking my college classes so I was hunting less, but that was okay because by then he wasn't as freaked about your safety, you could handle a hunt on your own. He'd still call for the occasional assist, but I suspect it was more to check up on me than anything else. And when Darren died, he understood my decision to quit when I told him I was going to fake my death—he actually convinced me that he should know where I ended up. Just in case I needed him—said he'd just waste valuable time looking for me anyway if I didn't tell him. He would call and check in on me once or twice a month. And then the calls stopped. And that's how I found out that he was killed." She finished her story quietly and waited for the boys to react.

She wasn't all that surprised that Dean was quick to anger. "So you're saying that all those times that he dumped me and Sam at some random high school and left us alone for weeks that he was picking you up in the next town over for the hunting adventures of Charlie and John? You're younger than I am!" He shouted.

"Yea, but hunting with me was different than hunting with you guys."

"How?"

"Because he didn't care about me! That was the entire point! He didn't care for me like he did for you and Sam. I wasn't his kid. I was just another hunter who was damn good at her job. He could hunt with me without constantly worrying about my safety the way he did when he hunted with you. And without any real guilt because my own dad had been hunting with me forever." She explained it the best way she knew how.

"But he told you things—personal things…like Adam." Sam said. "Things he never told us."

"Yea, but it didn't mean all that you're thinking it did. I was more like a sounding board than a confidant. He needed someone to talk to or he would have gone insane—." Charlie shrugged as a corner of her mouth lifted in a nostalgic smile. "Well, more so than he already was at least. He told me things because he could handle _my_ disapproval, _my_ judgment. He could tell me about Adam because he didn't care whether or not I would think badly of him for his indiscretions and I was cut off from the rest of his world, unable to tell any of his secrets to those people that mattered to him." She gestured at the two of them as if it weren't completely obvious who she was referring to. "He didn't want you guys to hate him. You have no idea how much he loved you—always talking about you. Or how guilty he felt about bringing you up in this life when that's the last thing your mom ever wanted for you. And how much he missed her. He loved Mary so much." Charlie looked at Dean when she said this. "He could tell me these things because I was neutral in the beginning—the info wouldn't affect me. It wouldn't hurt me like it might have hurt you two. And then after a while the talking thing just became a habit." Charlie finished.

Dean took a deep breath and looked to Bobby. "Did you know about this? About her and my dad?" He asked with a coldness to his voice that made Charlie shiver. Bobby looked to her and then back to Dean.

"Yea." He answered simply.

"And you didn't think to mention anything about this." It was more of a angry statement than an actual question.

"It wasn't my story to mention."

Dean shook his head, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. He tossed the journal back on the table and left the room. Sam smiled slightly at Charlie. He was handling the entire situation a lot better than his big brother. He shrugged and went after Dean. Charlie took the journal and found her page. Bobby moved to sit by her as she did her work.

A few hours later, Charlie wandered outside to find Dean sitting on the front steps with a scotch in his hand. He didn't even let her get a word in before he stopped her.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. I just need some time to process it all. Okay?"

Charlie nodded and took a step back, opening up the screen door again so she could re-enter the house. "I just need to give you one more tidbit to process." She told him. She practically glared a hole in the back of his head, willing him to at least turn and look at her. He didn't. She sighed. "I know how to kill Lucifer." And with that she went inside, the door banging shut behind her.


	22. Possible Delusions of Grandeur

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey so yeah, chapter 22 on August 22. I thought there was a poetry in that. Also its my first day of classes so I figured I'd update before I get swallowed in work. Enjoy. Review. PLEASE.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Possible Delusions of Grandeur

Dean turned and stared at the door that Charlie had just exited. He seemed frozen for a moment, wondering if he had heard her correctly. When it registered, Dean sprang to his feet and followed her inside. Bobby and Sam sat at Bobby's table, staring at Charlie as she stood across from the door, waiting expectantly for Dean.

When he did come in, he didn't exactly seem happy about the news. "If this is some kind of stupid trick to get me to talk to you again, you're only going to piss me off even more." He told her.

Charlie scoffed at him. "This isn't something I would joke about. Apparently you guys don't get my sense of humor at all—first thinking the translation was a joke and now this. Ridiculous!" She was not happy about this situation at all. She motioned to a chair next to Sam. "Sit down." She ordered Dean. He glared at her defiantly. "Dean, sit your ass down now!" Though he was not okay with being told what to do, especially not in that tone of voice, he complied with her demand.

Charlie started pacing the room, trying to figure out exactly how to spit out her crazy ideas.

Sam watched her move back and forth impatiently. "So…what have you figured out?"

Charlie stopped walking and took a deep breath. "Okay, well, I have a theory."

"Just a theory?" Dean snapped.

Charlie glared at him. She had had enough of the attitude. "No comments from the peanut gallery until I'm through." She said, holding each man's gaze and making it clear that her words applied to all three of them.

She took a deep breath and began, "Okay so, at the heart of this, this is like any normal hunt, right?" Sam opened his mouth to give her a sarcastic 'Oh, yea', but she cut him off. "It was a rhetorical question." She snapped at him and Sam clamped his mouth shut. "Anyway, like with every hunt we have to find out what type of creature we're fighting and what type of weapon will kill it. When it comes down to it, Lucifer is still an angel—a super evil, super powerful one, but still. Somehow along the way, after falling out of grace he gained an inordinate amount of power to become uber-angel—also known as Satan. So if we can somehow strip him of this power he will power down from uber-angel to average Joe-angel. And if we can do that I think we should be able to kill him with Castiel's special knife. Unfortunately the actual stabbing will probably be the easy part."

Charlie paused to let that information sink in.

She walked to the table and pushed the book open to a specific page. She turned the book so that it was right side up for the guys, even though they couldn't read a word of it. She tapped the center of the page where there was a long paragraph of what looked like gibberish to everyone except her. "There's this spell in the book—I think Lucifer used this book, this exact spell to gain his power boost. The spell basically is what creates demons. A soul pledges itself to Lucifer when it becomes a demon and Lucifer feeds off of that energy to become stronger. The more followers he gets, the more demons he creates, and the more powerful he gets. It all has to do with proximity though. That's why he's stronger in Hell where all his demon buddies live. When he's up here though the power from those demons is limited—almost cut off completely. It's the same reason that he wasn't powerful enough to escape the cage without Lilith to break the seal. He was less powerful—just a regular angel—because he was unable to get the energy from the demons. And this is a good thing because I found a sort of reversal spell." She said.

"A reversal to what?" Sam asked, confused, intrigued, and overwhelmed all at the same time.

"Basically it will expunge the demons, freeing the souls—like a mass exorcism almost. Sadly, many of the people possessed will probably die after the hell the demons have put them through. It will only get rid of the demons in a certain range, but if I'm right it should weaken him enough that he should be killable." Charlie explained.

"Okay, where are the flaws?" Dean asked, knowing that Charlie was covering up a few details.

"Well, it's not a legitimate reversal. If he gets away somehow he still has the ability to create more demons, rebuild his strength, and come back more pissed than ever. And if I do this, I'm not destroying or killing the demon energy—it's been created and I don't have the ability to get rid of it so basically I will be freeing a whole other sort of evil mojo and dispersing it."

"What does that even mean?" Sam asked.

"It means that even if we kill Lucifer there's still going to be a shit ton of evil to hunt." Charlie said with a shrug.

"Of course. We'll never be done." Dean said more to himself than to anyone else. He rubbed his temple wearily. The life was clearly taking its toll.

"What if you're wrong? We do the spell and he's still as strong as ever." Sam said.

"Then he kills us." She said it as if it were no big deal, but the thought that she could be wrong had rattled around her head and made her worry more than she would ever admit. "Look, I get it. This idea is out there, but I can do this! There's a reason you were sent to me and there's a reason we got this book and a reason that I'm the only one that can read it. It's _all_ connected and it's _all_ important. I think that _this_ is the reason." Charlie looked at them all hopefully, but no one made any move to support her. She huffed at them. "Okay then, do you have a better idea? Because I don't think that the apocalypse is going to wait on you guys to figure things out."

Dean stood up. "I'm in." He said, but he didn't look at Charlie.

Sam shrugged. "Let's do it," he said.

"Damn!" Bobby said, which Charlie took as an agreement.

Dean called for Castiel and the angel instantly appeared. "We need your knife." Dean told him.

Castiel looked to the others for clarification and Charlie gave him the shorthand version of her plan. He considered her for a long moment.

"Your theory is sound. It could work…" He told her.

"There seems to be something else you want to say." Charlie suggested, squinting her eyes at him.

"…or it could go terribly wrong." He finished.

"Great." Charlie said in an almost imitation of Castiel's signature monotone.

"Now that you know everything we need the knife and Lucifer's location." Dean ordered again. He wasn't in the mood for idle chitchat, which suited Cas because he was never in the mood for talking.

"It will take some time." Cas said.

"Don't let it take too much time." Charlie warned and then he was gone.

Dean bolted as soon as Cas was out of the room. There was nothing more to discuss about the plan as far as he was concerned.

Charlie watched him go, storming off like a little boy. Sam moved to go after him, but Charlie held up her hand to halt him in his tracks.

"I got this." She told him.

Charlie left the room, wandering around Bobby's property before finding Dean at one of the tool benches in a garage. Dean looked up at her and shook his head in a clear indication that she should go away.

"I understand why you're mad. And I'm sorry about that." Charlie started her apology.

"I don't think you do actually." Dean scowled.

"Then why don't you fill me in?" Charlie said. She leaned against the wall and folded her arms over her chest, waiting for him to speak.

He didn't. Instead he chose to go around reorganizing the tools. Charlie watched him for a bit before letting out a sharp laugh. Dean's head shot up, wondering what on earth was so funny.

"So is this how you do it? You don't talk it out when you're mad: you yell and then you turn quiet and your quiet anger turns into an angry acceptance until you walk around okay with everyone on the outside, but you're still actually mad and won't forgive them. Are you and I going to turn into the way you and Sam treat each other?" Charlie had quickly grown impatient with him and felt the need to give him a piece of her mind.

"What are you talking about? Sam and I are fine." Dean protested.

"Really? You are? Because when you two talk it's only about hunting or the apocalypse. You avoid looking at each other, but when you do there's something in your eyes and I just know there's like a disappointment or…I don't know just a distance, like you don't trust each other anymore." She said.

"Anymore? You don't know us—not our relationship now or how it used to be. It's complicated and not something you know about from conversations with my dad." Dean argued.

Charlie didn't fail to notice Dean's overt annoyance at the mention of his dad, but she decided to circle back around to the subject later. "I know. I don't know everything about you two, but I know you. I can read you and something about you and Sam is off. And I've pieced together enough of the last few years with the help of Bobby and Cas," and the _Supernatural_ book series of course, but she wasn't going to reopen that can of worms. "I know about Sam and the demon blood. I know about Lilith and the seals. I know why your relationship would be on the edge. But you need to get over it and stop being so angry." Charlie pleaded.

"Just stop being angry? Just like that?" Dean narrowed his eyes and an angry red flush crept up his neck. "It's not that easy. He lied to me, betrayed me—."

"More like he disobeyed you." Charlie interrupted, prompting more anger out of Dean.

"He broke the final seal!" Dean finally shouted, thinking that would bring her to share in his viewpoint.

"True, but from what I hear you broke the first seal. I say you call it even." Charlie replied easily, making it clear that she actually _did_ know a lot more than he thought she did.

"That was different! I didn't know. It wasn't my fault!"

"And Sam knew exactly what he was doing by killing Lilith? He knew it would open the cage?" Charlie prodded.

"I was in Hell. Literally, it's _different_." Dean said, shaking his head, but he didn't seem as sure.

"Yes and that sucks. I don't blame you, but Sam thought he was preventing the apocalypse, not starting it. I don't blame _him_ either." She said gently.

Charlie slowly circled the garage, picking up objects from time to time as if she was really interested in them so she could give Dean a little time to figure out what was going on in his own head.

Finally Dean made a disgusted sort of groan which caught Charlie's attention. "So I'm guessing you want me to go and talk to Sam now." Dean said. He slid off the chair and moved to go into the house.

In three long strides, Charlie had leapt over to Dean and grabbed his arm. "Later." She told him. "You're not done talking to me." She pulled him back to the stool. "Sit."

"You need to stop ordering me around now. I'm not in the mood." He protested her command without even realizing he had already done what she asked.

Charlie dragged over another stool and sat it across the table from his. "About earlier—the stuff about John—I _am_ sorry I didn't tell you about it sooner. I can understand if you feel weird about it or doubtful about me. But…I mean I can't tell—are you more mad about me not telling you or about my relationship with your Dad?" She asked, trying to catch his gaze.

"Honestly, that's what I've been trying to sort out." He answered and finally locked eyes with her. "Until the last few years, I worshipped my dad, wanted to be just like him and make him proud. I wanted to be friends with him. But I never got that and I always assumed it was because he wasn't capable of it anymore—not after my mom. And then you told me that you got to have that _exact_ relationship with him. And that it was this big secret the whole time that you both shared…it just leaves me confused."

Charlie nodded as he spoke, understanding where he was coming from. "Okay so I want you to know how _sincerely_ sorry I am because I'm about to give my reasons and 'I'm sorry, but's' never seem genuine. So…I'm sorry, but that's why I didn't really want to tell you. I _know_ you're relationship with John had been strained and I didn't want to give you even more reason to resent him. Besides that I assumed there was a good reason John didn't tell you about me." Charlie said.

"You still should have told me. I get enough lying from every other person around me and now you too. What else have you been keeping from me?" Dean asked.

Charlie touched his arm. "Nothing! I swear." She stood up and moved around the table so that she was standing right in front of him. "I have told you more about me than I've ever told anyone. Yea, I kept this one thing from you, but you know me better than anybody."

"Better than my dad?" Dean asked bitterly.

Charlie moved around the table so that she was standing right in front of him. "Of course you know me better. For some bizarre freaking reason I feel like—or felt like I could open up to you about my personal life. I trust you so I could understand it if you felt the same way about me and then thought I was being dishonest with you. But there are plenty of things that I know you haven't told me so what I don't understand how you can be _so_ mad. It's a little hypocritical." Charlie said and then she tugged on his arms to make him stand up.

"I…I don't really know. I mean, I'm mad, but more at my dad than at you. I just…" Dean paused and took a heaving sigh. He put his hands on his face as though he were trying to hide in embarrassment. "I didn't think I would ever care about you this much." Charlie tried to bite back a smile. "So when I heard about you and my dad it kind of hurt. I didn't like it."

Charlie pulled him into a hug and whispered in his ear. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry." Dean nodded and pulled back slightly from her hug to look Charlie square in the eye. "Do you forgive me?" She asked tentatively.

Dean let a hint of a smile come to his face. "Yea, I forgive you." He told her. She gave him a stern look that said he better not be pretending to forgive her like with Sam. "Really! I do." He said with a laugh. To prove it, he touched a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Good." She said and pulled him in for a longer, deeper kiss that _he_ gave in to immediately and that made _her_ toes curl. "Ya know there's one thing about me and John that you should know."

"Oh God, what?"

Charlie laughed. "Your dad told me once that he thought you and I would be good together—or more like I would be good for you. That I would call you out on all of your bullshit."

"Is that right?"

"Yup, of course I was only 17 at the time so I didn't put much stock into it, but maybe he was right." She placed her right hand on the side of his face and stroked the hair behind his ear. "Though he also told me that he wouldn't even think about letting us meet until you were over your man-whore phase." She said.

"Man-whore? He said that." Dean asked, clearly shocked.

"I may have paraphrased." She said with a huge grin on her face. "My question is: Are you over that phase?"

"Definitely." Dean told her and she could tell by something in his eyes that he was being sincere.

"I was hoping you would say that because in that case I have some ideas of what we could do to pass the time while we wait for Cas to come back."

"Oh?"

"Uh huh. We'll have to stop at the Impala for the provisions in your glove compartment first." She said.

"I thought you wanted me to talk to Sam." Dean teased.

"I think it can wait. It's time for you and us to finished making up first." Charlie told him and began trailing kisses down his neck.

"Sounds like fun." Dean replied in a hoarse voice.

Charlie smiled and pulled Dean towards her, kissing him aggressively. They stumbled out of the garage to find a place they could get a little privacy.


	23. The Footnote

Hunter's Mystique

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or its Characters including Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, etc. They are the property of Eric Kripke and The CW.

**Author's Note**: Hey guys, so I apologize it's been forever, but I've been super busy! So my bad on that front, but we're getting towards the end of the road here anyway so it's getting harder to write. Hopefully I will be a lot quicker with the next chapter, but you never know so I hope you like this one enough to tide you over for a while. Please review and stuff-that always helps if only to remind me to write the story when I forget about it.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Footnote

Charlie woke up hours later with Dean's arms wrapped around her tightly. She thought it felt incredible to be in his arms. Like it was right. Dean's body was warm and comforting, nothing like she had expected that day that she saw all his hard muscles when she barged in on him while he was taking a shower. She had an urge to turn around and run her hands over his entire body, but she knew he'd wake up and then he'd never let her live it down.

Charlie turned in his arms so that she was facing him. He shifted slightly, signaling that he was gradually waking up. Charlie figured she would help speed up the process. She reached up to brush his hair off his face and then trailed kisses along his cheek until she reached his lips. She kissed him with a lazy sort of passion and slipped her tongue in his mouth. That woke him up all the way. Dean's eyes snapped open and he enthusiastically reciprocated. He smiled into the kiss and flipped her so that he was on top of her.

"From now on this is how I'd like to be woken up every day. Do you think we could manage that?" Dean asked.

"I'm up for trying." She replied.

"Good." He said and leaned down to kiss her again. His necklace hung from his neck as he did and tickled her chest. She laughed and pushed him off of her.

"Hey!" He bounced to his side of the bed and landed so that he was propped up on his elbow, facing her. She copied his posture, propping up on her elbow and facing him.

She smiled and just stared into his eyes. She usually felt uncomfortable looking people in the eyes for more than a few seconds, but she could stare into his for hours without getting embarrassed or bored.

"I wish it could just be like this from now on. I'd be okay with just waiting like this forever." Charlie said wistfully, winding her fingers with his.

"I'd be okay with staying in this room forever." Dean told her, his voice husky. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers.

She gave him a slow and sexy kiss in response and then pulled away. "As good as that sounds, I don't even think that you could last that long." She said, trailing her eyes down to one of her new favorite parts on his anatomy. "Besides we're out of protection. We'd have to at least leave to go get more from the car."

"We went through all of them?"

"It was an action packed night."

"Damn, I'm impressed with myself." Dean commented with a smirk.

Charlie rolled her eyes and moved to get out of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"Getting dressed."

Dean caught her arm and pulled her back to the bed so that she was sitting in his lap. "Why?"

"Because I'm not having sex with you without a condom. I'm not an idiot."

"No! I know that! Just because we aren't going to have sex doesn't mean we have to leave. I'd be completely happy with staying here and just kissing you for the rest of the day. Kissing and talking—just being alone with you."

Charlie didn't say anything. She was surprised by how sweet and sincere Dean sounded. She got a thrill at his words—one that was equal parts fear and excitement. Finally, she leaned back into his chest. He tucked her head under his chin.

"I guess I could stay a little while longer then." She said, pulling his arms around her. Dean smiled, squeezing her sides until he made her laugh and they sank back on the bed.

A couple of days later, Charlie and Dean developed a sort of routine. Spend the day hitting the books while exchanging significant looks and stealing away whatever free moments they could find. And then after a late dinner, they would spend long, luxurious nights exploring each other and catching a few hours of sleep in each other's arms. Charlie hadn't felt this light and happy in a long time—since way before Darren was alive—which was saying something considering the impending apocalypse.

Unfortunately for Charlie, that feeling wasn't going to last much longer. She was hitting the books, reading up on everything she would need to do for the spell, and counting down the hours until it could just be her and Dean when she opened up to a page in the Necromicon that she had read before. Bobby sat next to her, typing away slowly at Sam's laptop and grumbling one thing or another about technology. She smiled and shook her head as she scanned her current page. She squinted her eyes and leaned in to read the small text of a footnote at the bottom of the page. Her smile vanished from her face and she snapped the book shut with a loud THUNK! Her heartbeat thrummed frantically in her chest.

Bobby looked up from the laptop screen and raised his eyebrows at her. "What in the hell is wrong with you?" He asked. He didn't pick up on Charlie's cues—didn't recognize them because he had never really seen a show of fear from her in all the years he'd known her.

Charlie took a moment to pull herself together, but it wasn't working too well. She processed the information that she read and tried to get past it. When that didn't work she at least composed herself and looked to Bobby with a serious expression on her face. "There was uh…this—I don't know—footnote I guess…more like a disclaimer actually that I missed during the first go round." She started to explain. Something caught in her throat and she cleared it roughly. She took a deep breath. "Turns out that the spell works by gathering energy from the soul of its caster. And it takes a lot of energy to expel all of those demons. Basically, the spell will likely suck my soul from my body…and I'm probably going to die.

Bobby stared at her, taking in her expression and knowing that this wasn't just a really bad joke. He got out of his chair and made a beeline for his stash of whiskey. He pulled out the bottle and a glass and then thought better of it. He ditched the glass and took a long pull straight from the bottle. He swallowed, looked at her, and opened his mouth to speak. Nothing. He looked away and put the bottle to his lips again. Sam and Dean walked in then with bags of food in their hands. They looked from Charlie's stricken face to Bobby's make-out session with the whiskey bottle and they knew that something was wrong. Dean narrowed his eyes and took a step toward Charlie, but she help up a hand to stop him.

"I just—uh…I need some air. I'll be right back." She said and fled out the screen door.

As soon as she made it outside, she sucked in a lungful of air in hopes that it was in fact all she needed to pull herself together. Her breathing became ragged with each successive breath and she slowly slid down against one of the junkyard trucks to calm herself. Her body shook slightly as her breathing started to return to normal. The new information had messed with her head and Dean coming back right after she read it—reminding her of exactly what she wanted to live for—didn't help. She didn't need the reminder of the fact that she now had someone to be with, someone who made her really happy, someone who made her realize she had been numb for years by waking her up to her feelings again.

Her thoughts sprinted away from there when Dean tumbled through the door with a look of equal parts concern and fear. Charlie could tell that Bobby had filled him in. He looked around wildly, but didn't see her in his practically panicked state of mind, The sight of him made her want to break down and cry, but she held herself together. She called his attention with a feeble, "Hey."

He locked his gaze onto her and skidded to the ground beside her. He put a hand on either side of her face and pulled her gaze to him. She attempted a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"You okay? How ya feeling?" He asked her.

"Peachy." She answered sarcastically and then twisted her face out of his hands so that she could stare at his chest instead. She moved her hands and started playing with his shirt.

"Charlie, seriously." Dean said. The caring in his voice almost made her lose it again.

She cleared her throat and rolled away from him. She pushed herself to her feet. "Sorry. Yeah, I'm good. Had a weak moment there—I'm over it."

Dean shook his head. "You don't need to be over it. You're allowed to be human. Fear is a normal reaction."

"Yea, but we're not normal—I'm not. It was stupid, but it got to me for a second. You think I'd be used to the idea of dying. But it's one thing to know it's a possibility that you might die when you go on a hunt—I usually just choose to ignore the possibility—it's different when death is the most likely outcome." She tried to shrug off the truth behind her words, but the sinking feeling stuck in her stomach.

Dean turned her toward him and pulled her into his arms. She reflexively hugged him back as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Don't worry. Don't freak out. We'll find some other way to win this thing. I won't let you get hurt." He told her in what she was sure was supposed to be a soothing voice.

"What are you talking about—another way?" She asked and pulled out of his grip. She took a step back and a confrontational stance. "Dean. I'm still doing the spell. This doesn't change anything."

"Are you insane? It changes everything!"

"How? This is still our best option for killing him!" Charlie said in a way that made it seem like she was talking to a five-year-old.

"If it means you die, it's not our best option." He was getting angry, seeing the stubborn determination on her face and knowing she was geared up for a fight.

"You have another way? Something you've been hiding up your sleeve all this time?" Charlie threw her hands up in a moment of frustration. "Trust me, if you do I'd love to hear it."

"We'll figure something out."

"With what time? He's already held off from destroying the world this long for some unknown reason—I don't know what, maybe he's building his army. But he's gonna make his move soon and we need to stop it before that happens."

"We will. We just have to keep looking."

"It took forever to figure out _this_ way! You're being illogical."

"I don't care! If we can't find another way then we need to find someone else to do the spell. Someone who's not you—I'll do it if I have to." He reached for her cheek, but she leaned her head out of his reach.

"Dean there _is_ no one else to do it. There's a reason I'm the only one who can read that book. It's because I'm the only one who's meant to do it. It's my destiny to cast this spell and it's your destiny to kill the son of a bitch after I do it." Charlie glared at him angrily after she spoke, just realizing the implications of his last words. "And if you think I'm the type of person who would stand by and let someone else die in my place then you don't know me at all."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want anything to happen to you." Dean took a step toward her and this time Charlie didn't move away.

"Dean, it's either sacrifice me and save the world or let it all go to Hell and die in the struggle anyway." Charlie pressed her forehead to his. She could see his clenched jaw where he was trying and failing to hold back his emotions.

"I can't let you do this." He said, refusing to listen to her argument. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"It's not up to you." She answered softly against his mouth.

She pulled away from him. She knew she was pissing him off by being so stubborn. He at least wanted some show that she was as scared as he was—that she wanted to live as much as he wanted her to. But his argument had put her into a defensive mode that made her lose sight of her fear and simply amplify her conviction to do the right thing for the world.

Dean came to the conclusion that the only way to get through to her now was appeal to her emotions, considering his pleas for reason had all failed. "I can't lose you. I refuse to go through that all over again."

"Sorry—." She whispered.

"I'm in love with you." Dean suddenly blurted out, cutting her off. Charlie saw momentary surprise settle over Dean's face, but then he smiled like he was happy that the words were finally out. When he looked to Charlie, his smile faded.

She didn't respond in any of the ways that he would have expected. There was no shock, no fear, and worst no smile of happiness. She just continued to look at him with the same stare of stubborn defiance like she hadn't heard what he said.

He waited for her to say something, but she did nothing. Just waited like he hadn't finished speaking.

"Did you hear me?" He asked slowly, trying not to jump to any immediate anger. "I lov—."

"You love me. Yeah, I heard you."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "And you have no response to that?"

"What do you expect me to do? Should I jump up and down in giddy excitement? Go weak in the knees? Or maybe melt into a puddle on the floor? You should know that I'm not that type of girl."

"No, I know that but I expected you not to jump down the throat of a guy you're supposed to care about after he just poured his heart out to you." Dean bit back.

Charlie sighed. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? That's all? You've got to know how difficult it was for me to say that. I've never told any girl that I love her—I've barely ever said that to my family and for a long time they were all I ever cared about!" Dean shouted, covering his hurt with anger.

"I know all that, but how do I know you're telling the truth? It's not fair of you to try and manipulate me into thinking like you by saying you love me. Do you even know what it means to be in love?" Charlie put her hands to her hips and looked at him pointedly.

He took a few steps back from her as if she had just shot him. He couldn't help but think that she wouldn't say any of these things if she felt remotely the same way about him that he felt about her. He couldn't see that she was building up a wall between them—one of anger and denial and fear. That she thought it would be easier for him to lose her if he hated her instead of loved her.

"I can't believe you just asked me that!" Dean yelled at her finally.

"Do you really blame me? You said it yourself, you've never really told a girl you love her. You've never been in a serious relationship in your life. And your family life is so screwed up that the only normal, loving relationship that you have ever seen was from when you were like five—I'm betting you don't remember a lot of the detail there." As Charlie ranted on and on, Dean continued to get angrier and angrier. "You're probably confusing your lust—or the honeymoon phase of a new relationship—with love."

"I'm not confusing anything. I know what lust is—trust me, I've had my share of it—and that's not what this is. I know what love means. It means that you can piss me off most of the time. That you drive me up a wall because you're so much like me, but that I can't get enough of you. You can challenge me and keep up with me and keep me on my toes." Dean almost smiled before he remembered to be angry. He ran his fingers through his hair. "And you know me better than anyone—you know my history because I know you've read those freaking books, you know my family because you fit into it perfectly like you've been here all along, and you can read me as well as Sam can which is freaky. And I know you too, you've opened up to me and I can read when you're scared or happy or upset with one look at you when it wouldn't even register with other people. Me and Sam—we put our lives on the line to save people all the time and it gets to me—it does. Sometimes so much that I want to quit, but I know I'd be bored and I don't know, unfulfilled I guess, if I quit for good. And you're the only person I've ever imagined quitting for and being completely content with it—knowing that I couldn't ever get bored with you around. And at the same time, I know I could deal with hunting for the rest of me life if I had to as long as you're there with me because you make it okay. I know I love you because I'd rather risk the world than lose you again—because I don't want to think about a world that doesn't have you in it." Dean finished his long speech with a bang.

Charlie didn't know what to say. Throughout his speech she felt like she was holding her breath and waiting for him to yell out "psych!" halfway through. And when he didn't all she wanted to do was give him the exact reaction he expected, the giddiness, the knees, the melting—all of it. But she couldn't, she wasn't that girl and she knew it. And right now she needed him to realize that. She just shook her head and said nothing.

"Don't act like you don't feel anything for me. I know that game, I've played that game. I don't believe you." Dean said and he crossed his arms over her chest. "When you want to admit it, come find me." Dean told her and then stormed back inside.

Charlie clasped her hands on top of her head and looked up to the sky. She blew out a shaky breath in an attempt to hold back her tears. "Why now? Why did you have to do this now that I have something to lose?" She asked the sky and waited patiently for an answer that would never come.


End file.
